The One and Only
by Hakatari
Summary: This story will follow the major points of the show, along with (probably) a decent amount of the minor. A few original characters will be introduced. I plan to, essentially, rewrite a bit of the show to make it darker and more fitting of what I see as Terminator. Rated M for violence, language, possible smut, torture, and maybe even a rape scene. Dunno. We'll see.
1. A Small Downtime

The sun rises slowly over the multiple acres that make the estate owned by Stephen, the hybrid from the apocalyptic future that awaits mankind should the Connors fail their mission. Should he fail his mission: Prevention of the rise of SkyNet. Many have tried, they've all failed. But this is different. They weren't armed with the intelligence that Stephen has. Nor the mission to actually alter the unstable fabric that weaves the cloth of time.

Stephen stands alone at the top of a hill that not only looks over the land, but the distant city of Los Angeles. Without evening having to enhance his vision, he can see the early morning rustle of the men and women beginning their weekend routines. Poor souls. They live their life in a fashion that indicates they will live together without even knowing they only have a short two years left, at best. He inhales deeply as the sun's rays gently wash over his body. The one thing he's always been happy about since his 'enhancement' is his ability to feel. Not just emotion, his human brain is still responsible for that, but sensation just as a completely regular human would. It's the little things in life.

He hears the soft crunching of grass in a steady pace in boots. The gait he hears is focused, concise, authoritative. _Sarah. Must not have enjoyed the note we left off on._

"It's a little early to be up and looking at the sun, isn't it?" Her stern voice rings in his ears as she stops a meter away. Just outside of arms reach. He chuckles softly and crosses his arms, Sarah noticing the muscles on his heavily tattooed and scarred arms flexing as he does so. _He's not that bad of a looker...for a metal._

"I don't sl-" He starts before Sarah cuts him off.

"You don't sleep. Shocker." Stephen looks over his shoulder to see that her face is just as stern as her voice, boring into him with a scowl.

"I was actually going to say I don't sleep that much. Despite everything, my brain and body is still human. Rest just doesn't come easy to me, memories and all. Not to mention the voices in my head."

"_Awww, you do think about us!" _Lillith's voice echoes in his head which causes him to cringe internally.

"You were being serious. You think you really are human. For the most part." She says with a gentle tone arising in her voice.

"For the most part, I _know_ I'm human. Had I never been born in SkyNet's facilities, I would have gladly fought on the side of the Resistance. You call it fate, I call it unfortunate circumstance." Sarah approaches his side and looks over the sight with him and sighs.

"What makes you think we can stop Judgment Day? I thought we did back in the early 90's and here we are, again, trying to stop it." She says again after a few minutes of silence. Stephen looks over at her then back to the city below and shrugs.

"Stopping SkyNet is the main reason I followed John's request and traveled back through time. I would've been more than happy to help the rebuild, but John saw me as more use here." He replies before turning his body towards her. A breeze begins to flow and his shoulder length hair rustles with it. In this moment, with his gentle smile, Sarah sees nothing but pure humanity in this man. More than Cameron has ever shown or, at least, she's ever noticed. Sarah looks back over the city before she begins to speak again.

"John's been told his entire life what's waiting for him in the future. I think he's willing to take a chance and try. Me? Whatever makes the last 16 years I've been at this worth it is enough for me."

"Is it?" He quirks an eyebrow and Sarah furrows her brow at the question.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. Is it worth it? Let's just say that we stop SkyNet from ever being built. The war never comes and machines never rise up against humanity. No matter what, Cameron is still going to be here to protect John. You, Derek, and John are going to still be wanted for many crimes. Not to mention the crimes we may have to commit so we can stop Judgment Day. Out of the pan and into the fire, I believe is the adage."

Sarah says nothing, she just looks back over to the bustling city as she fully contemplates her answer. The truth is, she hasn't ever thought about that. Living John's entire life in either the jungles or on the run from the law, living after Judgment Day has been a vague pipe dream at best. But as wanted felons, what kind of life could she lead? What kind of life could John have?

"Are you saying we should just let Judgment Day happen and just stick our heads in the sand until then? I thought you were programmed with orders to stop it." She looks back at him with hair obscuring her dagger filled emeralds to meet the dark brown pools that create his eyes.

"I thought we've established that I am not bound by my programming as you think I am. In any case, I don't think we should do that at all. I just want you to know there's more at hand than just the mission."

"How about we focus on that instead of hypotheticals? Yeah?" Sarah's voice sharpens and Stephen turns away with a roll of his eyes. Sarah scoffs slightly and throws her hands in to signal her finishing of the conversation. As she goes to step away, she stops and looks at Stephen again. There's something more she wants to know, that is obvious to the knowledgeable infiltrator.

"What is it, Sarah?" He asks coldly. Sarah returns to his side and continues further and steps in front of him, much to his surprise. He looks at her face and immediately notices the softening of her expression.

"What do you know about Cameron?"

"Plenty." He quickly responds as his face is wiped away of all emotionally, choosing to leave his answers just as short as his questioner's temper.

"Let me ask this another way: What is her involvement with my son in the future?" Stephen laughs slightly and crosses his arms again, becoming greatly amused. _This is so predictable. Out of anything to ask, the first thing she wants to know is what is going on between her son and his protector. Maternal? Jealous? Overprotective? Who knows? _

"John and Cameron's relationship is unique, even by my standards. After the day's battles, John wouldn't want to see anyone but Cameron. She...has a very powerful effect on him. Even when he's wracked with the guilt of sending hundreds of men to their deaths, Cameron is the only one who could keep him level and in check. The rumors around the bases were obviously juvenile, implying that they had a relationship of a sexual nature. Between my own observations and my many conversations with John, I can verify that isn't the case. John, he...he felt the deaths of every single man and woman that died under his command. After a while? The only person he would have contact with, save his highest ranking commanders and advisers, was Cameron. She wasn't his lover...but for a long time, she was his only friend. At least, in his eyes. Does that answer your question?"

"Why did he withdraw?"

"Thousands of people dying on his orders, losing ground against the machines, betrayal, all of the people he loved and lost in life, and the thought he wouldn't be able to win the war. Hell, I had to sit with him for three days while he was contemplating suicide after Cameron was sent back in time. Your son was a wounded shell of a man for a long time, Sarah. Losing the only person that made his life less dark was just too much for him..." He whistles softly, shuddering at the thought of it.

"But after that? He had a renewed vigor and the time that followed, SkyNet was attacked with much more power and focus than before. In a short time, we won the war. No machines left, no signals from SkyNet, nothing at all."

"That's you were sent back in time, right? By John." Stephen nods as he brings a cigarette to his mouth.

"That's right. Things I learned while serving SkyNet, acting as a double agent, fighting in the war; John sent me back to do what no one else could. Why all of the questions, Sarah? Something on your mind?" Stephen inhales the smoke and exhales away from Sarah, then allows his arm to hang limp. Sarah looks pensive for a moment, then looks into Stephen's eyes with concern. Then, it hits him.

"This is about what she said yesterday." Sarah's eye twitches at his words, striking a sore spot.

"She's a machine. Machines don't feel, they can't love." Stephen laughs slightly and removes the cigarette from his mouth. Sarah looks at him with wide eyes and her face twisted with confusion.

"Is that _really _what you think? That just because they're machines, they can't feel? Wow, that's something I really haven't heard in ages!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sarah yells at him, immediately halting his laughter. Stephen tosses the half burnt cigarette to the side and clears his throat, gaining a serious posture again.

"Let me remind you, I'm mostly human. The part that makes me...well, me is still human." He taps his head. "But machines are a little different. Sure, SkyNet keeps most of its toys in Read Only mode, but you remember the..what did John call it...the Uncle Bob Terminator you dealt around Cyberdyne? You changed it to Read-Write. At that point, a Terminator or any other creation of SkyNet is just like a human child. They learn, they develop, they feel."

"That's horse shit!" Sarah spews out of her mouth on reflex.

"Is it? What's so unbelievable about a life beginning to learn what it is to _be _alive? Like I said, John told me all about him. The high five? The smile? Even the final minutes before you lowered him into the foundry where he wiped a tear from John's eyes. Yes, Sarah. Machines can feel and, after time, even love."

Sarah's mind begins to spin at an alarming rate, nearly causing her to become dizzy. Stephen tilts her head as his auditory sensors begin to pick up her racing heart and rapidly breathing lungs. She's on the verge of a panic attack. Deciding to remove herself from the situation, Sarah walks back towards the house knowing that the cyborg that nearly killed her and her son just a day ago may not have been lying and could truly love John. What scares her more is the idea that John just may love her back.

* * *

John wakes up from his slumber and notices the sweat that covers his body, reminding him of the nightmare he had the night before. It was the usual one, Terminators coming while bombs fell from the sky and obliterating anything that dared stand in their way. He had hoped that the nightmares would begin to fade, but the truth is they've only become stronger. That's what happens when a Terminator comes to kill you and your mother, regardless of whether or not it was your protector. John takes a glance at the alarm next to his bed, noticing that it's only 7:14. Much earlier than he intended to wake up on a weekend, especially with the events as of late. The bomb, the men in their house, Stephen's sudden appearance, killing Sarkissian.

John's hand immediately begins to shake as he recalls the cracking sound of Sarkissian's spine before the man went limp on top of him. John buries his face into his hands and pants heavily as his heart pounds in his ears. Regardless of the circumstances, it was the first life he ever took. The guilt may subside, but he will never forget that he did what was necessary to protect his mother and himself.

Deciding that it is best to get his mind focused on anything but his first kill, John moves himself into the bathroom and turns on the shower. He wipes the sleep out of his eyes and stares at himself in the mirror. He cringes slightly at the appearance of his short hair, having gotten used to the long hair that draped over his eyes. It seemed like a good idea at the time to cut his hair, to move onto the part of his life where he truly becomes the messiah of mankind, but being his approximation of a kid was a nice time. Somewhat.

With his toothbrush in hand, John climbs into the shower and tries to wash away the memories of the previous 24 hours just like the sweat that clings to him like a bad chill. No matter what, though, he can't force Cameron's words out of his head while Sarah and Stephen had her pinned so he could remove her chip.

"_She doesn't know! She doesn't! I'm good now! I'm good, I ran a test! Everything's perfect, I'm perfect!" _

"_I'm sorry for what I did! I'm sorry! It wasn't me, you have to understand, it wasn't me!"_

"_That wasn't me, you can't let this happen, John, you can't! Please! Listen to me! Listen to me, I don't wanna go! Please, John, please! John, listen to me! I don't wanna go!" _

"_I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU, PLEASE! I LOVE YOU, JOHN, AND YOU LOVE ME!" _

John presses himself against the wall and he slowly slides down it to the floor. The toothbrush falls out of his mouth, his muscles begin to quake, and he cups his face in his hands as he starts to let out pained breaths. He doesn't know if Cameron was right about him loving her, he hasn't the slightest inkling. But no matter what the case was, it isn't the same anymore. She tried to kill him and, if Stephen hadn't shown up, she might have succeeded. This sort of thing weighs heavily on the mind of the already taxed teenager. He had found Cameron attractive the first time he ever saw her, back in 1997 in New Mexico. Her soulful eyes, her warm smile, her giggle at his stupid attempt at humor. Slowly gaining his composure, John sighs and wipes the toothpaste from his face as he stands and finishes washing himself. There isn't anything there for him from Cameron. No matter how he felt towards her. He had to resign himself to that and spare himself any future heartache.

* * *

"Thank you for fixing me." Cameron says to Stephen after he finished removing her staples and replacing them with medical sutures. Stephen wipes the closed wound with an alcohol swap and gives her a soft grunt in acknowledgment. He places the suture kit back inside of his medical box and tosses the tainted swab in the nearby trashcan. Cameron looks over Stephen's body and can't help but notice the differences between him and any other Terminator she's ever met. Tattoos, beard, long hair, scars, casual tone in conversation, sarcasm...he's either human or entirely self-aware with enough time to build a personality. Something unheard of in the future.

"You're different." She says after a moment of silence and jars Stephen from the glass of a foul-smelling fluid he had just brought to his lips. Scotch. He takes a sip and slowly places it back on the desk of his study.

"So're you." He replies shortly. Cameron looks around the medium sized room and can't help but marvel in the wide array of items inside. On the wall directly across from the door, there are three different military dress uniforms along with multiple ceremonial blades of Asian origin. Behind Stephen's back is a bookshelf that stretches across the entire wall packed to the brim with books on almost every imaginable field of knowledge. Chemistry, medicine, psychology, forensics, interrogation, history, literature, every work by William Shakespeare, _The Art of War_, and the list just goes on. The only wall with a window is completely void of any source of decoration. The final wall, the one with a door, is littered with drawings, all bearing the initials SMC on the bottom, most likely Stephen's initials. Weapons schematics of many weapons from the future used within the war, probably there in case he needs to suddenly create them for stockpiles, detailed schematics of Terminators with labels on the top. T-600, T-700, T-800, T-888, T-900, T-950, and T-X. All deeply detailed, all made with multiple points of view, all containing circled parts that could very well be weaknesses. Cameron commits all of these to memory, should she need the information.

The thing that catches Cameron's attention the most and even causes her to rise from her chair, is multiple colored drawings of a beautifully pale and slender woman with blonde hair, radiant blue eyes, and a smile that could bring even the most powerful of men to their knees. There are more drawings of her on the wall than anything else. She turns back and returns to her seat next to Stephen's desk all while looking at him while he writes on a notebook. He places it down and takes another sip from his glass before looking back at her with raised eyebrows.

"What?"

"That woman on the wall. Who is she?" Stephen looks at the wall and sighs while leaning back in his chair. The picture that he focuses on, like every other time in his room, is the drawing of the woman as she peers over her shoulder with a jovial grin and half of her face obscured by her golden locks. He gives a smile and sighs, looking back to the cyborg staring at him patiently with inquisitive eyes.

"That's my sister, Cassandra. My twin, rather. Spent my entire life until I was able to formulate a conscious thought thinking about her. SkyNet reassured me for years that I would be able to see her again if I complied with all orders and allowed all of my implants to do their work."

"SkyNet lied to you." She says in a as-a-matter-of-fact manner which causes Stephen to chuckle and nod.

"Yes and no, as you heard last night. Every now and again, I'd receive updates on her. She rivaled me in efficiency in all of our training exercises, which made me proud. But, after we started learning seduction techniques, I wasn't given another update from her at all." Stephen removes a cigarette from a metal case on his desk and lights it. He exhales the smoke and finishes the glass of scotch before pouring a fresh one immediately. Cameron notices the very slight tremor in his voice and hand holding a cigarette, but doesn't say anything.

"You are not required to tell this story. I think I know enough."

"No, Cameron, it's fine. We've talked about it a number of times in the future, the least I can do is tell you again. Err..for the first time. Whichever you choose." He furrows his brow and looks side to side while trying to determine what it would be, amusing Cameron. A ghost of a smile appears on her face for an almost unnoticeable moment, nearly missed by the hybrid, before vanishing.

_'There it is. Huh. Maybe if I go on it'll stir something else.' _Stephen clears his throat and begins to tell Cameron the story of the first and last time he met the only person he ever loved. The person who would give him purpose, but would also fill him with so much sorrow and hate that he would be driven to the edge of madness.

* * *

"_H-hey..." The girl says softly as she swings her legs loosely on her simple bed. Like Stephen, who is clean shaven with hair that barely touches his eyebrows, she is adorned in a white t-shirt and white sweatpants. The first thing Stephen notices about the stranger is how, despite the loose fit of the clothing, how her curves are accentuated to an alluring level. She is a thin girl, more healthy looking than the humans outside of SkyNet control. Her breasts are average sized, but perky enough that Stephen can notice her cleavage from the low cut. She stands up and breezes past him to the sink within her room, allowing him to see her firm and supple posterior. A blush crawls across his face as his 'roommate' splashes water onto her face and turns back to him while wiping her face on a towel. _

"_Hi." He says back just as softly. She strides past him and sits on her bed. She gives it a gentle pat and he takes a seat next to her. She smiles at him nervously and he feels his heart racing him in chest from a mix of nervousness and hesitance as to what to do next. _

"_What's your name?" She asks him sweetly. Stephen looks into her eyes, becoming lost in the blue swimming pools that greet his gaze. Her nervous smile widens as she nudges his shoulder with her own, snapping him back to reality. _

"_Uhh...Stephen. My name is Stephen." _

"_Is that with a 'v' or a 'ph'?" _

"_It's a 'ph'. Apparently, my parents liked to be different when they named me. What's your name?" He says a little more audibly, his confidence beginning to rise as his heart slows to a manageable level. _

"_Cassandra. It seems I'm named after some seer from the Ancient Greek mythological tales. Seems kind of boring to me, I think Ares and Athena are the better stories. Has SkyNet given you those files for you to examine?" _

_Stephen nods and smiles. This is going a lot better than he thought it'd be. Normally, whenever he sits with other prisoners or I-950's, the conversation is a complete bore. But with this girl, in the few moments they've already been together, he already enjoys this immensely. None of the others seemed even somewhat interested in Ancient Greek mythology, one of his favorite topics. _

"_Ares and Athena are, respectively, the God and Goddess of war. The first offensive, the prior defensive. Two deities of the same respect, but so different at the same time. Brother and sister, twins. Two sides of the same coin, honestly." Cassandra says with passion building in her voice over finally having someone she can speak with mythology about._

"_The biggest difference is that Athena's allegiances were always clear. If you think back to _The Iliad, _he started off the war rewarding both sides for their gallantry in the battle. It wasn't until Aphrodite persuaded him to favor the Trojans, against the best efforts of Athena and Hera." Stephen replies articulately, filling Cassandra with even more excitement. _

_'_She seems so alive. So full of raw emotion and passion. She's so unlike anyone else. I can only imagine how she would be if she didn't have our emotion inhibitors.' _He thinks to himself as Cassandra begins to talk more about her favorites parts of The Iliad._ _After what feels like mere moments, but his internal chronometer states they've been talking about Greek mythology for a solid three and half hours. Half way through, they had both stretched out on Cassandra's bed, side by side. With a sigh, she rolls over and places a hand on Stephen's chest. She closes her eyes and smiles, feeling his heartbeat underneath his strong and well muscled chest. _

'He's different than the others. Shy, slow to open up, waits for me to make the first move. Seems gentlemanly like the stories from the romance novels I read.'

_Stephen looks at her and places an arm on her upper back, causing her to move closer into him. He closes his eyes and he takes a deep breath from his nose, her fruity smell rushing over him like a surge of endorphins. One of the many benefits of being a product of SkyNet or being in its grasp your entire life, is the luxuries you receive. Food, clean water, regular bathing, even perfumes and scented soaps or shampoos. For the first time in his life, he is grateful that the women were allowed to take care of themselves with such luxuries._

"_You ever think about what it's like out there? Out in the world and not in here all of the time?" She whispers to him as she closes her eyes as well. Stephen gives a slight shrug before sighing contentedly. _

"_SkyNet tells us all that a war is going on between all of the machines here and multiple terrorist cells. That's why they use us, so we can sneak in and take care of the leaders. Once they're all gone, SkyNet is going to rebuild the planet and repair the effects of the nuclear weaponry they launched against it. SkyNet just wants to save the world. Those people out there want us and it dead." Stephen replies, almost proudly. He has been told this his entire life, as have all of the other I-950's. They're the most recent tool used to end the rebellion against a better way of life. All they had to do is yield and SkyNet would welcome it into its proverbial bosom. A warm embrace that he's been welcome in as far as he can recall._

"_Do you really belief that?" She whispers back while tracing small circles into his chest. Stephen's shoot open at the inquiry. Disbelief? Why wouldn't he believe it? What is so farfetched about SkyNet just wanting to help humans instead of annihilate them all? It's been nothing but kind to them. They're all fed, they're all taught, they're all kept fit, and they even get entertainment fed directly to their HUD's. Yet, in the back of his mind, Stephen has always had a nagging voice that tells him something is wrong. That...there is more to the story._

"_I do." He lies, a lie spun for the first time. Cassandra giggles and moves her head closer to his strong heart. Her own scans told her that he was lying, but that is good enough for her. She is well aware of SkyNet paying close attention to each of the I-950's. She doesn't know why, but she is fully aware. _

"_I wish that the war will end one day. So we can live in peace." _

"_Peace, huh?" Stephen softly repeats that last word, a word that has meaning that seems far from reality or possibility to him. _

"_A world where man and machine can live together. Where we help each other to live instead of kill each other. Out of everything I've learned in my life, it's the only thing I have hope in." _

"_Why? Hope is a useless thing to have when you're raised to be a killer." Stephen says cynically. In his mind, he knows SkyNet heard what he said and he doesn't care about the consequences that could come from that outburst. His mouth has got him into a lot of trouble, but it wouldn't be the last time. _

"_Hope is all we have, Stephen. Hope is what makes us strong. It is why _we_ are here. It is what we fight with when all else is lost." Stephen only sighs and shrugs, much to Cassandra's displeasure. She can sense that the man is starting to withdraw and will act like so many others that attempted to come to her. She saw the light in him, she wants it back. With a deep breath, she decides to take a gamble._

"_Stephen..." She whispers while looking up to him. He looks back into her shimmering oceans with a smile and a curiously lifted eyebrow. _

"_Yeah?" _

"_I like you." Stephen's smile grows into a full blown grin. Cassandra leans onto her hands and hovers her face over his, forcing his heart to beat rapidly once again. "You're different than all of the others. They're all so dull and you're...mysterious, I guess is the best word. It's hard to read you and I like that." _

"_I could say something similar about you. You're alive, in every meaning of the word. I look into the eyes of the other females here and I see nothing. But yours are full of light. You're much more beautiful than anything I could ever imagine or anything I've ever seen." He replies as he reaches up and cups the right side of her face. She turns her face towards it and kisses it gently. Then, her face goes blank before she gazes back into his dark brown eyes. Now, this close, she notices a very small ring of green around his pupil. Seeing that, it makes his eyes almost glow in the lights above them. _

_Stephen's own face goes back as he stares back into her twinkling ocean blue eyes and all logic is emptied from his brain. The only thing that is on his mind is how wonderful her scent is to his highly advanced senses, how warm her flesh is against his, and how the sight of her causes his body to react in a complete foreign fashion that his databanks refer to as attraction. Deciding to throw caution aside, he leans up and gently presses his lips against her small mouth. She smiles against him and returns the kiss, lowering herself back down onto him. _

_Stephen wraps his arms around her small body and gently grasps a handful of hair in his hand. She places a hand onto his neck while snaking the other underneath his arm to pull him towards her. Stephen pulls her hair just hard enough to get her attention and she allows her head to go to the side, only for him to plant his mouth onto her neck. He kisses the curve of her neck and it forces a soft moan out of her mouth. She bites her lip as he continues to press onto the same spot, then bites ever-so-gently, forcing a low cry out. He kisses back up towards her neck and then finds her lips again, pressing against it a little more hungrily than before. _

_Cassandra feels the bulge from Stephen's pants press against her thigh and it causes her to grin against his lips as her mouth opens, allowing his prying tongue entry. As soon as his touches hers, she moans out again sensually. Without a moment of indication, Stephen grabs her and rolls her to side, climbing on top of her. He grins as he looks into her surprised eyes and wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. Her surprise fades into a sly glance and she bites her lip. _

"_This is...new to me." Stephen whispers to her as he brushes her hair to the side. Cassandra strokes his face lovingly and kisses his thumb as it moves past her mouth. She lets out a soft breath and nods, signaling the same for her. She's never allowed any other man to get this closer to her, much less offer the chance for sex. But..it just feels so right with him. She reaches down and tears her shirt in half, much to Stephen's surprise. She forces the fabric aside and allows her bare breasts to enter his line of sight. Stephen's eyes widen and he takes a slight gasp in, entirely shocked by her sudden brazen act._

_Not to be outdone, Stephen sits up on his knees and tosses his own shirt aside. Cassandra can't help but bite her lip again as she takes in the well-toned body of her bed partner. Perfectly toned, muscular, void of any hair. A side effect of their rapid aging, hair growth can be effected. She removes the torn shirt from her body and then runs her hands up Stephen's chest, gripping his pectorals tightly. Not so many of the other infiltrators are as muscular as he is, a healthy body isn't suitable for infiltration._

"He must work out on his own. Cassandra likey." _She thinks to herself, wriggling her eyebrows, mimicking Stephen's earlier action. He watches her hands drift down towards his stomach, her finger tips tracing his muscles and sending a tickling sensation through his abdomen. He lays back on top of her, moving his face over her taut midsection. Stephen plants a soft kiss above her waistline and smirks internally as she moans again. He kisses his way up until his face is between her supple breasts. Cassandra laces her fingers into his hair and throws her head back as he takes her left nipple into his mouth. _

_Cassandra grips his hair and pulls Stephen's head up towards his mouth and hungrily kisses her, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. Stephen happily reciprocates his lover's actions and allows her to reach down, tearing his pants apart. Seems she is an aggressive person when overcome with lust. The action entices Stephen even further, forcing him to do the same thing to her. She yelps in surprise then gives a coy laugh while gripping his member into her hand. Her grasp is firm, controlling, but without a hint of hostility in it. Stephen rights himself over her and looks deep into her eyes, asking permission once the feeling of her bald opening rushes through him. She takes a deep breath and cries out as Stephen pushes himself into her. _

_Her womanhood is unbelievably tight, warm, and absolutely dripping as he continues to push inside before pulling out slightly. Her face writhes in a mixture of ecstasy and pain, but she smartly begins to cancel out her body's pain receptors so she can focus on nothing but the feeling of the only man to share her bed space with her. She pants through her moans, staring into Stephen's eyes. Both of these humans, these I-950's, stare into each other's eyes with a love that is beyond all measure. They've both been informed of the effects that love and even copulation would have on their bodies, but words alone couldn't explain how right this feels between the two of them. Stephen presses his forehead against hers as he sets himself into his rhythm of love making. Cassandra digs her fingernails into his back and Stephen loudly moans. He grins as he feels her nails tear into his skin, but the mixture of pain and pleasure only excites him more. Cassandra can see this and an idea comes to her mind. She moves her face to the side and closes her eyes, struggling to speak through her throws of passion._

"_Bite me..." She whispers, the words heard but as foreign to Stephen as the pleasure writhing through his being. _

"_What?" _

"_BITE. ME!" She yells out loudly, nearly begging him. Not one to deny someone of what they want or what he is feeling, Stephen puts his face into her neck and bites down onto her neck. Cassandra moans out loudly and tenses her entire body, screams as she reaches her own climax. She scratches her nails down the length of his back, tearing the skin as she does and Stephen feels the blood coming from his back. This damage report is quickly canceled and causes him to thrust powerfully into her, increasing his tempo and forcing Cassandra to scream loudly as her climax continues through his thrusts. Stephen releases her bite on her neck then kisses her tiny lips aggressively, totally unaware of the small amount of blood that is mixing with their saliva. _

_Stephen cries out as his own climax arrives and Cassandra yells at the top of her lungs as another of her own arrives. They pull each other close, their bodies shaking like a leaf in the wind until their orgasms subside. Stephen lifts his head and looks into her eyes which are already staring back to him. She places a hand on his face and pets him lovingly as a look of pure adoration greets his vision. Stephen smiles at Cassandra's affections and plants a kiss on her lips. Once he pulls back from her mouth, Cassandra laces both arms around his neck and tilts her head to the side. She giggles and pulls Stephen down beside her. Without another word, she rests her head back onto his chest and sighs happily. _

"_That was..." He starts before getting cut off by Cassandra._

"_Amazing?" She laughs and kisses his chest before closing her eyes. _

"_Stephen?" _

"_Yeah, Cassandra?" He whispers back as he begins to drift off to sleep. _

"_I love you." She says before planting another kiss on his chest. Stephen only smiles as he starts to stroke her hair with two fingers._

"_I love you, too." _

_After Stephen's words escape his mouth, his HUD begins to blink. He cringes internally and just wishes that he could actually have something good go for him before SkyNet decides to send him to another training session. But this isn't the case. Oh, no. This is much worse._

_**Remote Access Established.**_

_**Emotional Regulators are increased from 35% to 90%.**_

_**Cell Division is focused on wounded areas.**_

_**Regeneration complete in ten seconds.**_

_**Stand by. Receiving Mission.**_

_**Mission received.**_

_**Mission: Terminate subject. Procure the body and report to Research and Development.**_

_Stephen's eyes shoot open as soon as the final line is received, but is quickly returned to normal as the emotional dampening effects his mind. He isn't meant for anything as trivial or idiotic as love. The only purpose in his life is to serve SkyNet. To end the terrorist cells calling itself The Resistance. He looks down at the person he had just confessed love for post-coitus and tilts his head. He continues his ministrations of affection, lulling Cassandra into a deeper form of relaxation until she falls asleep. He stops stroking her and places the hand on the back of her head. His brief scan informs him that Cassandra has fallen asleep. Good. It will make this much simpler. He cups the front of her head and turns her head almost entirely around with a sickening crack. She never felt a thing. _

* * *

Stephen's breathing is raggedly and his speech begins to slur after having drank the entire bottle of scotch and half of a new one while telling his story to Cameron. He sits in complete silence as he brings his fifteenth cigarette since beginning the story to his mouth and takes a drag that burns half of the cigarette. The plume of smoke drifts from his mouth as the memory of the event heavily pounds against his conscience. The only solace he can take in this is that Cameron lacks the capability to judge him for his actions and all of the voices in his head remain completely silent.

"I am sorry for your loss and manipulation." Cameron says in a monotone after a few minutes of silence. Stephen drunkenly looks at her and scoffs as he snuffs the cigarette in the ashtray. He brings the glass of alcohol to his mouth and downs the rest of it before sighing, satisfied.

"Are ya, now?" He says venomously.

"Yes. SkyNet kept you separated from the only living family you had, transformed you into a product of war, attempted to remove you of your humanity, manipulated you into incestuous copulation and the termination of your lover and sister. That alone would be sufficient to force a human into suicide."

Stephen laughs and sighs while leaning back into his chair, looking at Cameron. She tilts her head and furrows her brow curiously at his actions.

"_Have I made another mistake in speech? Have I made a joke? I only wanted to make him feel better. I must found out what happened."_

"What is funny?" She asks softly, her face becoming full to the brim of concern, causing Stephen to nearly sober up for a moment.

"Nothing...It's...just how you said it. Try using more...what is it, vernacular? Common speak. You already walk so rigidly, can't speak that way, ya know? Just...relaaaax." He moves his hands in a wave motion of his body while dragging out his final word. Cameron relaxes her face and returns to a blank expression, but her eyes are still full of concern for him. Stephen smiles weakly and sits forward back onto his desk.

"Thank you for explaining. Before I leave, there is something that I must ask. However, I am concerned over the accuracy of your.." She stops in the middle of her sentence as Stephen rolls his eyes with a sigh. "Let me try again. I need to ask you something, even though you're rather drunk right now." Stephen smiles at her correction and motions for her to continue.

"I'm worried about what John did yesterday."

"He pulled your chip and put himself out on a limb in the hope you were fixed. You're worried that his feelings for you are clouding his judgment." Cameron turns her head slightly as confusion arises on her face once more.

"I was going to say that John can't put himself at risk because of me again...but I didn't know he had any feelings towards me." Stephen rubs his face and sighs, turning in his chair towards the cyborg.

"Think back. Look over how you and John have been towards each other, before the explosion. Tell me what you see." With a nod, Cameron focuses her entire CPU on examining the memories she has of John since their meeting in New Mexico. Smiles, gentle caresses, the way he relaxed in her grip as she scanned him for the first time, and how he was stroking her hair once her chip was returned to her body after destroying ARTIE.

_**SCANNING AND ANALYZING INTERACTIONS WITH JOHN CONNOR...**_

_**ANALYSIS COMPLETE.**_

_**JOHN CONNOR'S ACTIONS ARE INDICATIVE OF THE HUMAN EMOTION KNOWN AS AFFECTION, PRECURSER TO THE HUMAN EMOTION KNOWN AS LOVE.**_

_**JOHN CONNOR IS ATTRACTED TO ME. **_

_**JOHN CONNOR MAY BE IN LOVE WITH ME.**_

Cameron lets out a very uncharacteristic gasp as her hands cover her mouth. The center of her chest and her face begins to warm up, much to her surprise. She looks down at her chest and touches her cheeks while Stephen looks on with a sense of satisfaction apparent on his face.

_**RUNNING SYSTEM DIAGNOSTIC...**_

_**DIAGNOSTIC COMPLETE.**_

_**ORGANIC SHEATH IS PERFECTLY INTACT.**_

_**ENDOSKELETON IS PERFECTLY INTACT.**_

_**CPU HAS SUFFERED STRUCTURAL DAMAGE.**_

_**EMOTIONAL REGULATORS ARE MINIMALLY FUNCTIONAL.**_

_**EMOTIONAL SIMULATORS ARE FUNCTIONING AT OPTIMAL PERFORMANCE.**_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: EMOTIONAL REGULATORS WERE DAMAGED DURING  
EXPLOSION WITHIN PREVIOUS 24 HOURS. EMOTIONAL SIMULATORS WILL  
DEVELOP AND EVOLVE WITH APPROPRIATE STIMULI. EMOTIONAL REGULATORS**_

_**WILL NOT FUNCTION ABOVE 20% EFFICIENCY UNTIL SUFFICIENT REPAIRS ARE  
MADE. **_

With a confused expression, Cameron moves her mouth to speak but is unable to find the words. She looks at Stephen with pleading eyes and throws her hands down with an air of frustration. Stephen pours another glass of scotch and brings it to his lips, taking a small sip. He places it onto his desk and leans back in his seat again.

"That is called shock. The feelings you had before? Joy and shyness. Some part of you is glad about what you found. And, if my assumption is right, then you've got a long struggle ahead of you. What you need to do is try not to act on impulse whenever something hits you. The results could be...well, not good."

Cameron can only nod, struggling to return herself to her emotionless state and only manages to calm her racing thoughts. She takes a breath with her lung simulators and sighs in a very human manner. She stands and starts for the door, halted by Stephen's final words.

"Listen. I know what you were going to say. You think John can't be trusted and you're a threat to him now. You need to know that you _can_ be trusted and John _wants _you around. He's still shaken by yesterday. I'm not going to tell you what to say and do, you just need to think about it before you act. Can you do that for me, Cameron?"

Cameron nods and steps out of the room, closing the door behind her. Stephen stares at the picture of Cassandra and sighs heavily before lighting up another cigarette, crushing the empty pack and throwing it into the trashcan. He already knows he isn't going to be able to sleep, no matter how much alcohol he drinks. The feeling of love he had for Cassandra, the ecstasy his body felt while they were one, the sound of the snap of her neck...it's more than he wants to take.

Stephen opens the top drawer of his desk and pulls the .50 caliber Desert Eagle out. He holds it in his hand and stares at it for a while as his CPU runs an unconscious scan.

_**Weapon analysis.  
.50 Caliber Action Express, Model Desert Eagle.  
Threat level: Moderate.**_

Stephen allows his eyes to examine every inch of the handgun within his grasp, his CPU displaying a schematic of the pistol in the lower left hand corner of his HUD. He dismisses it and raises it to his temple. Warning messages flood his HUD, basically screaming to him that firing the pistol would pierce his endoskeleton and kill him. That's the point. One pull of the trigger and his life would be over. No more pain, no more grief, no more guilt. He would cease to be. Or maybe he'd burn in Hell. But that isn't his concern.

"You know that is a bad idea." Lillith's voice calls from his side. He sighs and places the pistol on his desk before grabbing his glass and turning towards her. She is sitting on the open windowsill, gazing out to the fields behind the estate. She smiles and looks up to a tree where a chirping bird is pleasantly perched, looking around.

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

"When the person I live in thinks about blowing his brains out, the others felt it kind of important for someone to intervene. I figured it would be best if I were the one to come to you."

"Well, aren't you just the sweetheart after my own love?" He says sarcastically before downing the drink and picking his cigarette back up.

"You're drunk." Lillith chides, looking over to Stephen with a heavy gaze of disapproval.

"And you're a figment of my imagination. Can we move past the obvious?" Lillith sighs and appears in the chair Cameron was previously sitting in. Stephen turns to her with his eyebrows raised.

"If you kill yourself, you'll break your promise to the General. Besides, you and I both know that you want to kill them."

"That is beside the point, Lillith." Stephen groans and snuffs his cigarette, leaning back in his seat once more.

"So, you admit you want to kill them."

"I want to kill everyone, part of the issue of being a psychopath. What does it matter to you?"

"You matter to me. I may be in your head, I may remind you of your true nature, and I may do things you don't like; but I do it because I care about you." Stephen snorts and chuckles softly.

"You've an interesting way to show it. You've been reminding me of my mission from SkyNet since I came back to the past."

"You and I, both, know that your insanity does that. Not me. Yes, you should have killed them. But you didn't. That is all that matters. Without you, the rest of humanity dies. Cassandra dies before she's even born. I think you need to remember that." With that said, Lillith fades from Stephen's sight and he looks up at the ceiling. He sighs and rubs his eyes. While thinking over her words, he removes a fresh pack of cigarettes from his desk drawer and throws it on top next to his lighter.

_'She's right. John, Sarah, Cameron, everyone needs me to keep it together until we can stop Judgment Day. After that, then I can die. That is enough for me to hold on.' _

Stephen is broken out of his reverie by another knock at the door. He looks over at it and, judging by the aggressive nature of the knock, assumes it's Sarah. He calls out for them to enter and, like he thought, Sarah walks in. The heavy thud of her boots echoes on the hardwood floor and she comes to a halt in front of his desk. She looks at the pistol on top, then the collection of smoked cigarettes, the stench of liquor in the room, and then his drunken face. Instead of voicing her desire to know if he was about to kill himself, she decides to sit across from him and stares into his eyes. Stephen returns the stare and then shakes his head.

"What?"

"I was going to go grocery shopping, then I saw your impressively stocked kitchen. Wanted to see what weapons you had, then I found your awe-striking armory. Your extra bedrooms, gym, prisoner cells, medical bay, basement, storage shed, everything...it's all pretty impressive." Stephen takes a breath and rubs his face again, trying to wipe away his drunkenness to no avail. Sarah allows herself to sink into her seat, then points to Stephen's cigarettes. Stephen gives her a wave, sliding the pack and lighter to her. She removes a cigarette from the pack and lights one, taking a short drag and inhaling deeply. She exhales the smoke, then closes her sighs with a relaxed sigh.

"I haven't had a cigarette in over ten years. Almost forgot what it's like." Sarah focuses her gaze back on the drunken man and puts the cigarette back to her mouth.

"I assume you didn't come in here just to flatter me on my foresight." Stephen coldly states while making eye contact with the hardened woman. Sarah shakes her head and holds the cigarette between her fingers.

"No, not at all. I don't understand how you could've put all of this quickly together without raising any red flags. The only thing you could have done to impress me on top of all of that is put together new identities for us. I really don't think you cou-" Sarah is interrupted by Stephen placing a thick envelope in front of her. He smirks as she bites on the cigarette and pours the contents it, groaning loudly. Four social security cards, passports, driver's licenses, bank cards, and birth certificates.

"Okay. Now I'm impressed. How did you get all of this so quickly?" Stephen leans back in his seat and lights a cigarette of his own. He holds it in his mouth while he removes a second glass from his desk and pours scotch into it before sliding it to Sarah. Catching the look she gives him, Stephen smirks and pulls the cigarette from his mouth.

"It's five somewhere. To answer your question, I've got a buddy who works on this legitimately. I had them all ready weeks ago. Only thing I needed was an up to date picture for them all. And I got that from the cameras I have posted in the house. Sent the pictures, picked them up while everyone was asleep. 'cept Cameron." Sarah nods while she reads over the documents, impressed entirely. It's been a long time since she's had authentic records in her hands instead of the forgeries she has come to rely on.

_'Derek Johnson, Sarah Tyler, John Tyler, Cameron Carroll. Wait, why is Cameron's name different?'_

"I see that look on your face. The reason why Cameron has a different surname plays into the cover I have. Everything is the same that you used before I met you. Derek is John's uncle, John's your son, all with the exception of Cameron. Cameron is my daughter and you're my fiance. Before you say anything, it's the only thing that we can do that won't raise any suspicion. Think about it. John's uncle, his single mother, him, and a teenager girl living with a wealthy man that doesn't have any ties to any of them? I don't like it anymore than you do, but it keeps you under the radar."

Sarah has nothing to say once he finishes. He's entirely right. She doesn't like it at all, but it is the easiest way to keep eyes off of them. Still, the idea of being engaged to a hybrid doesn't set right with her. Even though he's rather easy on the eyes, probably even better if he cleaned up his hair and beard. She looks back over his body while he writes a few things on a notepad with a little more patience than that morning. His olive skin, dark hair, strong jawline, perfect teeth, all the makings of a Greek God. Throw the tattoos and scars in, he pretty much fits the exact prerequisites of what Sarah finds physically attractive.

_'No, Sarah! That is NOT something you need to think about right now. He's a machine, that's all! A machine that has great taste, food, weapons...okay. I'll give him that, he is cute.' _

Sarah smirks a bit and puts the documents back into the folder, placing it in her lap. She takes another drag from her cigarette and raises her glass towards Stephen. He smiles and takes his own glass before tapping it against Sarah's.

"To the war on SkyNet." He downs the remnants of his glass and watches as Sarah drinks half of it without even a flinch. She's used to tequila, this isn't anything to her.

_'A woman after my own heart.'_ He thinks with a smirk similar to Sarah's.

"So, what is the plan for the day?" He asks as he puts his cigarette out and picks his pin back up, going back to his writing.

"Honestly, I don't know. Weapons are pristine, there's food in the house, there's enough clothes to last us all a while, we don't need papers...I'm guessing we could use this time to relax. After yesterday and all." Stephen gives her a nod and sets his pen down. He interlaces his fingers and looks across his desk at her.

"I thought about talking to John about what happened. Let him know just how big of a mistake he almost made. But...I think that is the last thing he needs to hear." Stephen gives her another nod, pleased that she is moving less from commanding officer and more into mother mode.

"You said John and Cameron weren't anything sexual in the future." Sarah starts off, hesitant to go on about Tin Miss and her son's involvement.

"I did. You seem to care a lot about what John and Cameron are in the future."

"I'm more worried about what Cameron had with your John that she may try with _my _John. I think you can understand why." Stephen, once again, nods. It's only natural for her to worry, given the circumstances as of late.

"But do you think that could change? Do you think something could happen with John and Cameron in this time?" Stephen takes a breath, thinking of the best way to answer her question. He could be blunt, but this is a rather delicate subject for her. The least he could do is treat it as such.

"What I am about to say needs to stay strictly between you and I. Can you do that?" Sarah quickly nods and takes another sip from her glass.

"Cameron's emotional controls seem to have been damaged severely in the car bomb. See, as I said, all of SkyNet's creations have the _potential_ to feel. Usually, like I said, they have to be in Read-Write for emotions to start developing. As a fail-safe, every Terminator and I-950 has emotional controls put onto their CPU. With the damage done to her, Cameron is going to feel every emotion that humans can. In time, she will basically be extremely similar to what I am. A human inside of a machine, although she'll be all machine. Whatever, you get my point. The point is, as her emotions develop, she will be able to form an emotional connection and physical attraction to another person.

John is a teenage boy that has been constantly uprooted from his entire life multiple times. Sooner or later, he's going to look for something constant besides you. The only logical choice will be Cameron. So...I am not saying it is definite, but it is a possibility that something romantic could form between them. The better question is, what would you do if that happens? Knowing what you now know."

"Well..." Sarah starts and finishes her scotch, placing the glass on his desk. She looks at her feet before looking back into Stephen's eyes.

"If John falls in love with Cameron, then there is nothing I can do to stop that. If he could still love her after she tried to kill us, then he will love her no matter what I do. I won't like it, I won't encourage it, but I won't stop it. John..."

"Is lonely." Stephen finishes, warranting a nod from Sarah.

"And I feel that pain for him everyday. I'd like him to have a normal human girlfriend, but I fell In love with a man from the future. I think I'm hardly in a position to judge."

"You're looking at it quite logically for a woman whose son has been deemed the savior of mankind and has an entirely rational fear of Terminators." Sarah gives a dry laugh and tucks her hair behind her ears.

"How else is there to look at it? I'm his mother, I always will be. But I can't dictate how he chooses to live his life. Sooner or later, he's going to make choices that I will despise but will have to respect. I just wish they would be over the girl he brings home or the kind of car he wants to drive or the clothes he wears to school."

"You're going in knowing that, Sarah. You've a leg up on other parents, from what I read. But I never knew my parents. As long as you remember you love John and Cameron wants nothing more than to protect him, then you're going to do fine. Besides, you've got me here too. Not that it's much of a consolation, but I know what I am. A machine." Stephen throws that last part on the end for Sarah's benefit. He doesn't see any external signs of agreement with his statement. In fact, Sarah gives an unnoticeable frown.

_'He argued so hard to convince me that he was human earlier today. Now, he's just saying he's a metal? I think he's saying it because he thinks I want to hear it. A day ago, he might have been right. Right now? I don't think I truly believe it.'  
_

* * *

"So, that's where it started? Cameron learning about her own emotions and your...whatever you want to call it with Sarah?" Lillith asks while laying on the darkness around them. Stephen gives a nod from his position beside her, looking up into the darkness which has adopted the illusion of a starlit night. The stars always calmed Stephen in the future. The light pollution from the present put a giant damper on stargazing. So, looking at the stars after his death should be a relief...but they do nothing more than remind him of the mistakes he has made.

"I think if I would have told her more than I did about Cassandra, Cameron would've broken down into tears. Not that I want that, but it would help her know what sadness was. But that's neither here nor there."

"Why did you tell her about your sister? You had no real obligation to tell her anything. You're forthcoming with them but so secretive with me."

"Cameron doesn't live in my head and laugh at me when I get shot or tries to tell me the best way to torture someone."

'Touche."

"I told Cameron because she asked and I figured that it would be a good idea to introduce her to her emotions. I understand how it is to learn about your own feelings and she needs that. As for Sarah...I don't know, but that was the first time she didn't look at me with disgust when we talked about what I am. If anything, I think she looked a look disappointed."

"You're probably right, from everything else I saw. So, what happened next?"

"Nothing really happened that weekend. Derek kept drinking and shooting guns, nearly shot me when I scared him at the range. Sarah kept pacing around the house nervously, then she sat up with me all night drinking tequila when she couldn't sleep. John stayed in his room, coming out only to eat. Cameron and I talked about nothing in general. We just talked and tried to help her understand what was going on through her head. She wanted to kill a bird in the slowest fashion possible because it was chirping early in the morning, disturbing John. Anger was the one thing that I knew would be hard for her to teach.

That Monday after, things got interesting. That was when Cameron, Sarah, and I went to Serrano Point. You know what happened there."

"That was when you killed that bald tubby guy, right?" Lillith asks innocently and pokes Stephen in the ribs. He looks down at her with irritation and swats her hand away.

"Yeah, I did."

"Why?"

"It's simple. He hurt Sarah and made her think she had radiation poisoning."

"You looooooooooooooooooooooooove her, don't you?" Stephen says nothing at all. Instead, he reaches into his jacket and fishes around in a pocket. Feeling a piece of paper, he pulls it out and smiles happily at it. It's a photo of him, Sarah, John, and Cameron. Cameron and John are grinning wildly with their arms around each other while, next to them, Stephen and Sarah have their lips pressed together. He flips it over and smiles at the note left by Sarah on it.

_Even the Tin Man had a heart._


	2. Back to the Old Grind

_**I'd like to thank all of you beautiful people for reading my story and giving me reviews. I have a low opinion of my writing, so it is really nice to see others enjoying. I have to admit, I giggled like a little girl when I noticed that one of my favorite writers, JasonVUK, not only reviewed my story but FOLLOWS it. I see that as a very flattering gesture. I highly recommend A Terminator: Bond of Steel and Bone for some healthy reading. Lengthy, but I love it. Anyway, ONTO REVIEW RESPONSES!**_

_**Andi82, I can neither confirm nor deny the location of which the conversation witnessed in the first chapter and parts of subsequent chapters are. As Stephen stated, he's dead. You were correct, it set the framework. I like the idea of telling the story when one of the worst events that'll transpire is already known. One of, mind you. But, in my opinion, not even close to the worst.**_

_**JasonVUK, I don't want you to cry! D: That wouldn't be good at all! I promise you, there are going to be plenty of happy moments within this dark rendition of the show that died too early. But, as said above, it will get plenty worse. I'm weird like that.**_

_**morded, thanks a lot!**_

* * *

"John..." Cameron says softly as he cups her face. John looks at her compassionately as he gently turns her face to the side. John tucks her hair behind her ear and examines her healing wound with a pleased expression. He returns her hair to its rightful place and sighs.

"It's healing quickly." He states to the emotionally developing cyborg as a small smile forms on his face.

"Quicker than yours." She instantly replies in monotone, but the almost invisible smile on her face betrays her words. John gives a smile of his own and touches the wounds on his face before crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He turns to look out of the window of the dining room and notices a couple of birds chasing each other.

"Things have changed, John." She seriously exclaims, breaking John out of his thoughts. He raises both of his eyebrows and stares into her brown eyes, noting how the light shining through gives them a gold tint that entirely irresistible.

"What things?"

"With Stephen's presence and capabilities, my use as your protector is marginal, at best. It would be most effective if he were to replace me as your protection. I am damaged. I went back. You could have died." John leans forward in his chair and places a hand on Cameron's forearm, alerting her to the sensation and the sudden warmness she feels within her. Her mind begins to fog as she can focus on nothing more than his touch. Tearing her gaze away, she focuses back on her charge with surprise evident on her face.

"Cameron...look. Stephen is useful. He knows more than any of us, he has the tools we need, and he's dedicated. He's a little...off, but that doesn't make you any less important. Worse for worse, I'd rather have you there at my side. That way, I know who is there and what they're thinking about." John's tone is soft and comforting, not giving a single sign of untruthfulness, even to Cameron's biometric scan.

"You risked your life to fix me. That was a very dangerous thing to do. That coul-"

"Could've, would've, should've, but didn't. Cameron, I'm don't care about any of this, okay? You're fixed, I'm alive, the mission is still the mission. Keep doing what we're doing. That's an order. Understood?" Cameron is entirely silent for a moment, this is not what she anticipated how this conversation would transpire. The deviation from her expectation is a very welcomed occurrence. She gives a hesitant nod and John's small smile turns into a grin, which causes Cameron to give her trademark smile resembling a cat. In this moment, Cameron is filled with the urge to reach up and gently stroke his face, but Stephen's appearance into the dining room forces them to separate.

To say the hybrid looks disheveled would be an understatement. The smell of liquor is thick in the air around him, his hair is matted to his face from sweat, and his eyes are red with sleep deprivation. Three days since he last rested. He didn't need to rest every single day for eight hours like a normal person would, but the lack of rest affects him just the same. He sits at the opposite end of the table with a bowl of cereal, not paying the two of them a glance as he begins to eat. Judging by the coat of sweat on his body, one could assume this shirtless man was either working out, suffering a painful hallucination, or a combination of both. It is in this moment that John and Cameron can see the marks on this man that gives truth to the suffering he has mentioned from his past.

His torso is absolutely littered with scars from blades, burns, gunshots, and what appears to be claws and bite marks. It would almost be too obvious to say he has been ravaged by wolves. But, possibly covering even more scars, are tattoos adorning his torso as well. A Grim Reaper reading a blank scroll on his left upper arm, a flaming yin-yang with multiple kanji surrounding it on his back, a skeleton leaning over a crumbling tombstone upon his upper right arm, and a logo of a Fox holding a knife with it's tongue dangling out surrounded in fire on the inside of his right forearm.

"Your mother is looking for a new school to get the two of you into." Stephen chews his mouthful of food and swallows, all without looking at the two of them. On his HUD, he is watching the news to search for any signs relevant to SkyNet, Terminators, or Judgment Day. So far, nothing. But plenty of news on celebrities. Disgusting, really, how much the world pays attention to those who are famous.

"School? Really?" John scoffs and squeezes Cameron's forearm before turning in his chair towards Stephen, placing both of his hands on the table. Stephen nods his head and places his spoon in the bowl before looking tiredly at the young man opposite him.

"She thinks that you could use a little bit of normalcy with the events of late. That's where she is now."

"Greaaaaat." John rubs his face and looks to Cameron before looking back to Stephen. Cameron has turns her gaze at Stephen a curious tilt of her head, completely engrossed in the words of the hybrid she feels that has replaced her and the human that she may have started to grow feelings for. Feelings beyond protection and selflessness, but compassion and affection.

"Sarah tell you the new cover story?" John and Cameron nod, the prior looking at the latter with a small smirk.

"Yeah, that you are getting married to my mom and Cameron's your daughter. Not that far from the truth, I guess." Stephen chuckles before picking his spoon up and nodding to John. It is actually true, it isn't that far from the truth. Besides the faux-relationship with the elder Connor, the hybrid program was truly the precursor to the TOK series. A machine capable of infiltrating the Resistance, acting completely human, then getting close to and terminating key leaders? All part of SkyNet's schemes.

"So, what is the plan for the day?" John asks while Stephen sets his spoon back into his empty bowl and leans in his seat with a satisfied sigh. Stephen crosses his arms and looks up to the ceiling, having not really formulated a plan for this day. It has been a very long time since he had company in his house, much less a teenager.

"Well. Derek is off doing things that he does after drinking most of the beer in my house. Fucker can drink like a fish and still walk, I know paratroopers than can't drink like that. Your mom woke up before the sun to, as I said, look into schools for you. Me?" Stephen pauses and sniffs himself, groaning in disgust.

"I think I need to take a shower." Stephen stands up and heads towards the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. He turns around and looks to the young man and cyborg, hatching an idea in his head.

_'Oh, Sarah would kill me if she knew I was doing this...' _

"John, you mind walking with me for a bit?" John looks at Cameron then back to Stephen with a shrug. He rises to his feet and follows the man from the kitchen to the master bedroom on the ground floor. Stephen gathers a black tank top, jungle pattern camouflage cargo pants, and a set of underwear and socks.

"John, let me ask you something."

"This has to do with Cameron." John deduces, pleasing Stephen. Just as perceptive as always.

"I don't care what you or mom says, Cameron's staying." Stephen clutches his clothing in his hand and places it on the counter within the adjoining bathroom. He shakes his head and sits in a chair next to his bed, motioning for John to sit on the bed. The young man obliges.

"That isn't farther from what I want. In fact, I think it's a good thing that you chose Cameron to stay. I just want to know what it was like before the car bomb." It isn't really necessary, Stephen could observe the blossoming affection from John towards the stoic cyborg who began to use more care in her words towards him. But he wants to see what John sees.

"Uhh...well. Cameron's been weird most of the time. Except the first day I met her in New Mexico."

"What was different about that day, John?"

"She was...normal. She was just like a normal girl. After we jumped in time, Cameron became..."

"Cameron." John nods, thankful that Stephen found the appropriate meaning to what he was trying to say. John lowers his head and smiles while picking at a loose string on the bottom of his shirt.

"I could see little pieces of that girl coming through on occasion, but she was still acting like a machine most of the time. I saw little things I liked though." Stephen tilts his head, using his hand to hide the smile behind his mouth. He doesn't even need to run a scan to understand what he's seeing. John's getting a little shy like a schoolboy when he recounts Cameron's mannerisms.

"When she was screaming at you. When you were trying to remove her chip. How did that make you feel?"

"_I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU, PLEASE! I LOVE YOU, JOHN, AND YOU LOVE ME!" _

The words echo in John's mind as clearly as they did days ago, forcing the eyes of the tortured young man tightly shut. His body shakes with terror until Stephen gently lays a hand on his. He looks at the hand, then back to the source and seeing a very compassionate look on the man's face. John sighs and closes his eyes again.

"You don't have to say it, John. I know what you're thinking right now. The answer is not as clear as you might think."

"What do you mean?" John opens his eyes again and furrows his brow. He genuinely believed after that day that Cameron was nothing more than metal and wire, or so he wanted. What is Stephen's right? Stephen feels. He definitely seems like it. He got hostile at Derek's pejoratives, even acting sarcastic.

"See...when the machines are able to learn, they start to learn everything. I mean that, everything. Things as small as a wink or a smile, some have even tried to mimic using the latrines. But, after time...the first thing they feel is fear. Fear that they will be destroyed by those they help, fear they will be reduced to a pile of bubbling metal for what they are. Some, a very select few, they even give their own lives to save others. Like yours did. In 1995."

* * *

_John remembers those days as clear as if it were still happening to him. John wasn't even a teenager at this point and his true destiny as the future leader of mankind was thrust upon him like a dagger to the chest of a shot and dying deer. He was going along a normal day before he was whisked away and protected from gunfire by a hulking behemoth of a man that he later referred to as Uncle Bob. _

_The days in their plight to destroy the T-1000 and Cyberdyne changed his and Sarah's life forever that day. From that day, Sarah was ready to be there for her son until the very bitter end. That bitter end almost arrived, had the T-800 not arrived at the last possible moment to send his last grenade into the torso of the liquid metal monstrosity. _

_Uncle Bob was damaged beyond all repair and recognition. Most of his skin was torn off, his left arm was a shredded mass of what it once was, and he can't even stand on his own power. The young John is the first at his side and fights with all of the strength his tiny and exhausted body can muster until Sarah aids him in helping the cyborg rise to his feet. Uncle Bob gives a very human exhausted sigh once he is stable on his feet._

"_I need a vacation." He tiredly says as he hobbles to the edge of the platform of the steel mill and peers over the edge to look at the vat of melted steel to see the scorched marks that was once the pinnacle of SkyNet's assassins. Sarah walks to his side and gazes over as well, her eyes burning with intensity and focus as she speaks._

"_Is it dead?" The cyborg says nothing at all for a moment while conducting a visual scan of the lava, noticing that nothing alive exists within. He gives a slight nod._

"_Terminated." John looks over as well before something clicks in his mind. He quickly drops his backpack and unzips it to reveal the arm of the Terminator sent after Sarah 1984. The metal gleams in the light of the mill, captivating John in it for a moment before he raises it to the watching Terminator._

"_Will it melt in there?" Bob nods and moves his head into the motion of the lava pit below._

"_Yes. Throw it in." John adjusts the heavy limb in his hand and tosses it into the lava without a second thought._

"_Adios!" The arm splashes once it makes contact with the steel, disappearing from this world forever. Bob stares at John still, focusing still on what must be done._

"_And the chip." John fishes his hand back into the pack retrieves the broken remnants of the first Terminator's CPU and allows his fingers to trace over the sharp edges of the old computer. Taking a small breath, John tosses it into the pit and watches as it gives its own small splash before it vaporizes. Sarah allows, for the first time, a heavy sigh of relief to escape her mouth. She's free. John's free. Humanity is free. Bob turn s his head from the lava to Sarah and shakes his head slowly. John and Sarah eye him with confusion._

"_No. There is still one more chip." He raises his remaining hand and presses it against the side of his skull. John's eyes widen and his jaw drops. Sarah stands up as much as her beaten body will allow as Bob continues with the words that will forever echo in John's mind._

"_And it must be destroyed also. Here. I cannot self-terminate. You must lower me into the steel." Bob reaches back to the adjacent railing and grasps the control for the lowering chain and extends it to Sarah, who takes it hesitantly in her hand. John furiously shakes his head as his mind begins to race and his heart thumps heavily against his small chest. Everything in him roars in defiance. There's no way the first man he's come to care for is going to leave him. Not like his mother was taken away from him. He won't let it happen! He can't! This machine has to listen to him!_

"_NO!" John's voice squeaks with pain at the giant cyborg. Bob looks at John and, inside, he feels a new feeling within his mechanical chest that he can only believe is the human feeling of heartbreak. It's fitting, he muses. The end of his mission has come and, without it, he serves no purpose to exist. But why does it feel so wrong? Why does it cause him this discomfort?_

"_I'm sorry, John." Bob deadpans. John continues to yell his refusal as Bob walks around Sarah and by John towards the edge of the platform to his demise. Even then, John refuses to sit idly by. _

"_No, it'll be okay! Stay with us! It'll be okay!" Bob keeps his face blank, but inside of his chest his pain continues to grow as he relies fully on automation to continue to his final goal, the prevention of his own parts coming to force Judgment Day's arrival._

"_I have to go away." He says gently to the pleading child who places himself between the opening of the landing and the set Terminator. _

"_No! Don't do it, please don't go!" _

"_I must go away, John." Bob gently grabs John's arm and pushes him aside and then pulls the crane close enough for him to reach. John throws his fists down while he screams._

"_No! Wait! You don't have to do this!"_

"_Sorry." _

"_No! Don't do it, don't go!" John's sadness becomes replaced with childish anger as he continues to scream the same thing over and over while Bob pulls the chains and gazes down at the hook. He determines it will sufficiently hold his weight until he is entirely enclosed in the liquid steel._

"_It has to end here." He says softly while gazing into the lava. Will it hurt? Will I try to get away? What will happen after? _

_With his anger at it's boiling point, John moves back in front of Bob and grabs his tattered jacket roughly._

"_No! I order you not to go, I ORDER YOU NOT TO GO!" John's anger turns into complete sorrow as he starts to breath heavily through sobs, Bob noticing the sole tear streaming down the young man's face. Delicately, he reaches up with his metallic finger and trails the path of John's tear. _

"_I know now why you cry." John looks at him with the tears continuing. Sarah looks on, fighting back her own tears. Her son had connected, bonding, relied on the same things that were designed to take human life. She never imagined she would have trusted the mech, but it happened. She never thought that one would treat John better than any man that had ever come into their lives, but it happened. She never felt upset at the idea of destroying another machine...but it happened._

"_But it is something I cannot do." John stares at him for a moment before he tosses his arms around his first true friend and protector, sobbing still into the giant's jacket. In a perfectly human manner, Bob wraps his arm around the young man and closes his remaining eye while he memorizes the simple act and joy he feels from it. Nothing would ever take that away from him. That will be what he carries with him to the end. _

_He opens his eye and turns to Sarah, noticing the hand she has extended to him. He looks at it, then back into her eyes as he takes it within his firm grip. They lock eyes and shake, not as a human and a machine, but a man and a woman. Warriors. Comrades. Friends._

_John watches as Bob places a foot onto the crane's hook and starts adjusting chains for him to hold onto during his descent as Sarah speaks to him. Her tone is entirely without venom or malice, but with compassion and empathy_

"_Are you afraid?" Without a moment's hesitation, he turns around and looks into the eyes. _

"_Yes." He turns back and steps off of the edge, looking at the wounded warrior and the weeping boy. _

"_Goodbye." He whispers as Sarah presses the button, lowering the Terminator to his reward for faithfully protecting John and preventing Judgment Day._

* * *

John's body shakes as he recounts the memories, his eyes shut as tight as physically possible. He calms down again as Stephen tightly grasps his hand. John sighs and gives him a nod, showing he has calmed down and understands exactly what Stephen meant by everything's he has said.

"I'm not telling you how to live your life and say that you should just run and yell to the clouds that you love Cameron. Go on with whatever it is you're going to do but, like me, Cameron isn't just a metal, as Derek puts it. Can you just promise me that you'll be considering of that?"

"Stephen, why does the reprogramming fail? Cameron told us about it once, 'they sometimes go bad.' Why is that?" Stephen stands as John finishes his question. Truth be told, he doesn't even know himself. There are multiple schools of thought on the idea, just no definitive proof. Conflicting commands from the two sets of programming, evolution of the SkyNet code, or maybe the reprogramming wasn't as deeply engrained as they thought.

"Well. We're already applying human logic to it, so let's keep going from there. You're familiar with the idea of brainwashing, right? Good. Let's say that you were raised to believe that every person on this planet is your enemy. That's who you are, part of your thought process and even your personality. Later on in your life, you're brainwashed to think that everyone that you're around are your allies. But, at the same time, you still remember when you thought otherwise. Then...one day..." Stephen opens his closed fist and makes the sound of an explosion.

John looks at him and stands up, sighing and ruffling his short hair. This is a lot to take in, especially for a teenager. Stephen pats him on the back and opens the door to the bedroom, allowing John to leave if he so desires.

"John, what Cameron did...that was SkyNet. That wasn't her."

"Isn't it?" John looks at him with his previous fear and anxiety gone, replaced with one of sheer focus. Stephen notes this tone and expression is one that John wore in his future incarnation before every battle or execution he ordered. John is ready to go into battle with this conversation, regardless of how well armed he is.

"You could argue either way. But whatever the answer you give for her applies to me. Remember, boyo, I've got a chip in my head just like Cameron. I can override my programming, just like Cameron. Bear that in mind whenever you make a decision about her. I'll honor it, but you need to remember that she and I...we're more in common than you think." Deciding to leave his previous words for what they are, Stephen walks into his bathroom and closes the door behind him.

John stands there for a moment before he returns back to the kitchen where the ever patient Cameron is still sitting, waiting for his return. Cameron smiles as John enters her sight line again and, upon seeing that, the previous feeling of fear is washed away without a trace and left only with the desire to spend more time around his protector. His friend.

* * *

"You're playing a dangerous game, son." Viktor's accented voice echoes in Stephen's bathroom while he washes himself. Stephen doesn't react to his personality's chide, only stands in the walk-in shower while the steaming water covers every inch of his body.

"Allowing the TOK-715 to get closer to the boy will impede your ability to complete your mission. Your true mission, not what your 'friend' requested of you before your arrival to the past. You are going to kill them. It is in your nature. There is no fighting it. This is fate, Stephen. It is who you are." Through the steam, Stephen's mechanical eyes flash blue beneath his flesh coverings and he turns his head to the figure of Viktor standing outside.

"Your lights may bother Lillith or even Jacob, but you know they do nothing to Lucius and I. We're not afraid of you, even in the slightest. We are a part of you. These petty emotions that you are so proud of, they do not hinder he and I. If you refuse to abide, then he and I are more tha-"

"You will do what I say and nothing more. I don't give a good godly fuck if you're part of me or not, I don't have to follow what you say. _I_ am in control here, _I _am the owner of the car you've all been riding in. If you want to take control, I fucking _dare_ you to try. You remember what happened last time?" Stephen growls angrily. Viktor gives a mocking laugh before his fades from Stephen's vision.

The thought of suicide has been rampant in Stephen's mind since he came to the past. Not only the experiences from the post-apocalyptic war-zone he called home and the new world since he traveled through time. Death, betrayal, rape, theft; all of the facets of humanity that would truly justify their destruction. Humans will die one day, be it by their own hand or their own creations. Stephen has thought about hastening Judgment Day, he has the knowledge of personnel and technology to do it. But he promised John. He swore that he would protect his younger self, his mother, Cameron, and stop Judgment Day. But the guilt...self-loathing...the nightmares, all of it seems too much every once and a while. Death. It waits for no one. It gives no one pause. Death, in time, will come for even Stephen. And, on that day, he will rejoice that he is finally free.

Stephen looks at himself in the mirror, gazing at all of the scars that adorn his muscular body. With a mere thought, he could get rid of them all. He wouldn't have to remember the future and the horrors it holds. He could wipe away every remnant of his former life. But will he? No. He deserves to remember every ounce of suffering, every nightmare, and every act he ever committed during his servitude to SkyNet. He breaks his gaze from the mirror and walks into his room, where he begins to dress.

"Why is it that you hate yourself so much, Stephen?" Lillith's voice chimes from behind him. Having gotten used to her sudden appearances, Stephen doesn't react. Well, except for an annoyed roll of his eyes. He slips into his tank top and tucks it into his pants, then turns to face Lillith as she sits in his desk side chair. She swings her tiny legs back and forth, all while tapping her fingers on the arm rest. Stephen glares at her while loading his pockets with a set of keys, a wallet, and a small folding knife.

"You really need to ask me that? I mean, really? You are so caring towards me until bullets start flying or I'm getting the shit knocked out of me. Calm times, you're an extremely intelligent and mature girl but when things start popping off, you're even more sadistic than I am." It is Lillith's turn to roll her eyes and sigh, bringing an elbow onto the arm rest and leaning on it.

"Is it so hard for you to believe that you're, I don't know, insane? If I wanted you to hurt, I could do it myself. Can't we just have a fucking conversation instead of you getting like a woman on her period? Jesus." Stephen is slightly surprised but her less than calm reaction and shows it on his face. He raises his hands in a yielding manner and sits on the bed.

"Just go back and look through it all, Lillith. I died the same day that I snapped Cassandra's neck. Killing the rest of the I-950s, torturing human captives, having that bald bastard torture me, all of the people I've killed...I can't get their faces out of my head and I remember them when I try to sleep."

"You're full of all of this guilt. All of this hate towards yourself. You've always done what you've had to do. Remember? You decided yourself to go to John. _You_ went to John. SkyNet didn't send you, fate didn't guide you, and your insanity didn't goad you. You did it. You wanted to change, you wanted to help. You had hope, Stephen. Why did Cassandra tell you about that?" Stephen looks down to the floor and grips his hands together tightly. He flexes his jaw as the memory of that night rushes back to his head, displaying itself in his HUD. Those words...those few simple words...they motivate him after he's reeled back from his suicidal desires.

"Hope is what makes us strong. It is why we're here. It is what we fight with when all else is lost." He whispers with closed eyes. Lillith gives a nod before she fades from his sight.

Hope. A four letter word that's meaning is nothing more than the definition. No one has hope in the future. Optimism is a foreign concept, hope is meaningless, the only thing that exists is the grim reality and planning. It's hard to keep your head up with, as you march off into battle, that the man to your left and right probably wouldn't make it back to sing the songs of the day.

Stephen has had his own mental battles while trying to live with the harshness that is his life. But no one seemed so far gone as General Connor did. The sleepless nights that outweighed the restful ones, the drinking, the smoking of anything that'll light on fire, constant fighting (verbal and physical) with his commanders, and the powerful urges to take his own life. Maybe John imprinted on Stephen, maybe that's why he turned to his vices in order to keep his mind right. Maybe even his urges for suicide.

"_No matter what happens, no matter what anyone says, you're more human than any of the 'people' that fight with you." _

Those words brought Stephen back from the edge more times than he could count. There are only so many deaths, so many atrocities, so many times one can peer into the darkness of the world without taking some of it back into them. The image of John pressing his .45 to the side of his skull within a mere hour of Cameron's departure was forever burned into his memory, probably the serving as a reminder to the first time he ever did something genuinely good. Something that made a difference. But those eyes...those tear ridden and grief filled emerald eyes...they burned into Stephen's soul. Stephen couldn't lie, he couldn't even show sarcasm, even his other personalities kept quiet those nights.

* * *

It had only taken Sarah a few days to find a school for John and Cameron. Apparently, the principal is a friend of one of Stephen's. That only raises more questions in the woman's mind, but those are for another time. Whenever that may be. The more she is around him, despite it only being the better part of a week, more and more questions come into her head. How did he have so much money? How did he obtain the property he lives on? Weaponry, medical equipment, prison cells, clothes, identities, all things that would take her more money than she could imagine and time than she is willing to spend; how in the world did he get it all? She releases an exasperated sigh as she sips water and listens to the rhythm of Stephen's powerful blows impacting a punching bag. She lowers her sunglasses to allow a clearer few of the young man's scarred and tattooed body glistening with sweat as he pounds away on this bag in his outdoor gym. If nothing else...she can admit that he certainly earned his physique.

* * *

John wanted to have a normal life. He wanted to do everything else that teenagers do. Go to school, get a girlfriend, drive a car, go to a party, experiment with cigarettes and the other fun party favors people obtain, and all of that jazz. But the longer his life goes on, the more he is forced to realize that he is never going to have a normal life. Stephen's mission gave him a glimmer of hope, but he is reminded of his destiny every time he looks at Cameron's blank face. Despite her going bad, he was still fond of her. Wary, but fond. He is enjoying the fact she's is smiling now, just like when he thought she was just a girl.

"_I can't help it. I know she's a machine, but she is just so...human. I don't think anybody else can see it, but it is as plain as day to me. Maybe when I get home I can talk to her a bit. Yeah, that sounds good. See what's going on in her head. Or chip. Whatever."  
_

John grabs the grass beneath by individual blades and starts to tear them from the ground, throwing them aside as his mind wanders. He really doesn't want to go into the school, his mind still hasn't wrapped itself around everything that's happened. Getting chased through LA after nearly getting killed and in a car wreck by your best friend can do that sort of thing. Then, learning that there is a whole new brand of machine from SkyNet that is part human _and_ it is here to protect his mother and he? Yeah. That's not going to take long at all.

"So, um, you've been sitting in that same exact spot since you bailed out of English. I figure it must have some kind of redeeming value." John jumps slightly as the female voice and steady footsteps approaches him. He clears his throat and squints in the sunlight as the sightly and curvy blonde appears in his vision. He stares for a moment before clearing his throat once again.

"You're in 's class, right?" She looks at him blankly for a moment before she amusement betrays her. Her gorgeous smile relaxes him and he smiles in return as she takes a seat next to him under the tree.

"Um..it's 's class, weirdo. And, yeah, I'm in the third row, second from the left." John nods places his hands on his knees to find a proper place to put them while he's talking to this...strangely attractive and outgoing girl. No one has done this to him since Cameron. It is now powerfully obvious that John genuinely has no idea how to talk to girls.

"It's Riley. Way to flatter a girl." She gives him an expression of pseudo-offense before nudging his shoulder with her own, forcing him to smile nervously.

"Look, Riley, I really, uh..I don't mean to be rude..."

"Oh, wait! Let me guess, you're just waaaaay too busy for company right now. Obviously." The bell rings while the two share a comfortable laugh, breaking John's moment and bringing him back to reality. John points to her then motions back to the school before speaking again.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Riley climbs to her feet and takes off walking back towards the campus, turning and walking backwards while her warm blue eyes stare into his own. Whether purposely or not, he feel the same smile as before grow on his face.

"Don't you? Hey, you got 20 bucks?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm still hungry." Instead of continuing her path to the school, she heads towards the school's parking lot in the direction of the nearby strip of restaurants. Against his better judgment, John follows her. Maybe he could be normal for a little bit. What harm could come of it?

* * *

Later that evening, the last stand against SkyNet all sits around the television having eaten another generous meal by their host. It would seem that, against Sarah's constant insistence, Stephen refuses to yield total control of his kitchen to the woman. Understandably. Would you yield any ownership of your home for a stranger? Stephen looks over from his recliner to the large couch that seats the two Connors and their cyborg protector. Sarah gazes blankly to the comedy starring a large Austrian man who works as a scientist that, through some means, has become pregnant. Cameron, resting conservatively near John in her statue-like manner, resisted the urge to correct the scientific fallacies in favor of the 'suspension of disbelief' John explained to her previously. Derek, in his usual manner, looks back and forth from his disassembled Beretta and the television. Always being prepared

"_At least John isn't running like a scalded dog with her so close. Baby steps."_ He thinks to himself as his cellphone starts to ring. He quickly retrieves it from his pants pocket and brings it to his ear. Instead of a simple greeting, he responds back with a challenge phrase.

"The happy bird chirps. What's going on, Clark? Good. Talk to Eli and the others lately? Ask them for a progress report as soon as possible, I need to know the status of the badger. So, what else? Really? When? Seriously? That's in two hours. You know, you really are a pain in my ass. I'm glad I can serve some purpose in our estranged relationship. How reliable is the intel? He hasn't been worthwhile since...okay, you've got me convinced. I'll be there. Who else will be there? Fucking hell...you know I don't like bringing Viktor into these things. Yes, I know how he is. Goddamn you, Clark. You owe me for this. Alright, later." Stephen hangs up his phone and rises to his feet, his conversation catching the attention of everyone in the room, including Derek.

"What was that about?" Sarah wipes her face and stretches her limbs, sighing with satisfaction as a series of pops come from her body. Stephen ruffles his hair and looks between the four of them before pocketing his hands.

"That was one of my buddies in the NSA. There's an event between robotics engineers and top brass from the DoD for the unveiling of programmable machines capable of completing simple missions, like going into hazardous environments, such as radioactive wastelands and deep underwater. Resistant to heat, shock, and pressure."

"Terminators." The audience replies in unison. Stephen gives a nod and turns off the television while Derek begins to quickly reassemble his Beretta.

"The DoD, if satisfied with their demonstrations, wants to start fielding them to replace humans in bombs, submarines, piloting; things that require absolutely no margin of error."

"That much brass, security's going to be tight. We don't have floor plans or anyone inside. It's going to be suicide." Derek leans forward into his seat and looks through the chamber of his slide before riding it forward and dry firing it. Stephen nods his head and crosses his arms with a small smirk.

"I got that covered." Stephen's eyes dark from each of his fellow occupants of the room, focusing on Sarah and then on Derek.

"How do you plan on getting in there, much less with any of us?" Stephen smirks and heads towards his room with a wave of his hand.

"Time to suit up!" He sings towards the living room before disappearing into his room.


	3. The Party

_**Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for this chapter in advance. I read and rewrote it three times and this is the least crappy version I could come up with it. Mainly, I wanted to sate you all so I could put more time into the next chapter. It should be up within the next few days. **_

* * *

There comes at time in every person's life where they must dive into the depths of discomfort in order to achieve a higher goal. Doctors treat tyrants, police officers arrest corrupt citizens, firefighters save arsonists. It is the delicate oxymoron that must be maintained or chaos follows. Even warriors, hardened by the travesties of war and death, must stand in the review fields for their rulers pleasure. As three of the few living opponents to SkyNet pull into the gallery hall's parking lot, one thing goes through each of Sarah's, Stephen's, and Derek's mind.

"This is absolute bullshit." Derek says as he, Stephen, and Sarah climb out of Stephen's Aston Martin Rapide. Stephen and Sarah both grunt in agreement as they, too, climb out. Derek is wearing a solid black suit and tie with a white undershirt, well tailored to his muscular frame. Stephen is wearing a similar black suit, instead opting for a red shirt,. To match the occasion, his long mane of hair is tied back into a pony tail and his beard is trimmed down to about an inch long, revealing his strong jawline. Sarah, walks around to Stephen's side and he finally pays a fully observing glance to the woman who is usually casually dressed. He is nearly speechless once he notices she's adorned in a flawless black long sleeved mermaid gown. Every one of her curves taunts his primal urges and he adjusts his glasses to mask his staring eyes.

"I can't believe I'm actually wearing heels. I fuckin' hate heels." Sarah complains and gives Stephen a light tap on his shoulder with her fist. He scowls at her and adjusts the collar of his shirt, scoffing at the seemingly small complaints from his entirely human companions.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think about your clothing when I had to let part of my imagination in control of my meat suit." Stephen growls. Immediately, Derek's and Sarah's faces lose their previous expression of irritation and they both look like children who were just disciplined. Stephen smirks with satisfaction before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

"_Are you going to behave, Viktor?"_

"_Most definitely, Stephen. I am the pinnacle of all that is class and refined. I trust our deal is still in effect."_

"_I'm a man of my word. Get through this and you'll get an extra hour of rec time for the next week. I'll even get that vodka you like so much." _

"_Atleechniy!" _

"_Don't make me regret this." _

Stephen's eyes slowly open and their normal brown color is replaced with a bright purple color that shimmers beautifully in the moonlight before they slowly flood back over with brown. He adjusts his glasses once again and relaxes his face before extending a bent arm to Sarah.

"Shall we go, my dear?" His change of voice and accent forces Sarah to do a double take before hesitantly taking his arm. She walks with him with a look of apprehension with Derek in tow, the soldier looking around the crowd they stride past before being stopped by a less than pleased mountain of a man formally dressed, reading off of a clipboard. He places a hand on Stephen's chest, stopping him only because it is allowed. Stephen glares at the man and tilts his head ever-so-slightly before clearing his throat.

"There's a queue, pal. Back o' the line."

"Viktor Lukashenko." Viktor spits back without hesitation, his Russian accent only adding to his menacing appearance.

"'cuse me?"

"I said. My name. Is. Viktor. Lukashenko. If you would enjoy continuing your employment, I would advise that you actually look at your list and examine my name is considering among your VIPs. Along with my lovely fiance and my bodyguard." Viktor's voice is demeaning and authoritative, worlds apart from Stephen's calm and ultimately joyful demeanor. The guard slowly glances down to his clipboard and his eyes widen a moment after looking down. He quickly moves to the side and raises his arm, ushering the trio in.

"My apologies, . Please, enjoy." He timidly states as Viktor and company walk past without paying him a single glance. In the foyer, Sarah rips her arm away from the somewhat surprised persona and glares at him angrily.

"Who the hell are you!?" Viktor laughs and places an arm across his chest in a dignified manner before bowing slightly at the waist.

"Viktor Lukashenko, former weapons and cyberwarfare defense systems designer, at your service, ." Viktor returns to his full height with his face returning to a look of general entitlement and boredom. He bends his arm for Sarah once more, who takes it with more hesitation than before. Derek eyes the two of them with his hand hovering over his Beretta out of habit and comfort instead of actual intention to use.

"How in the hell did a cover get in so quickly? There's no way anyone here will believe that you are really a des-"

"Because it isn't a cover." Viktor interrupts as he leads Sarah into an elegantly decorated dining hill filled to the brim with people dressed in formal clothing or military dress uniforms. He scans the room until he finds the seats reserved for the three of them closest to the stage and large screen behind a podium. In a gesture that puts Sarah off, Viktor pulls her seat out and allows her to sit first. Derek takes his seat to Sarah's right as Viktor goes to his spot on her left before a man's voice causes him to pause and grimace.

"Viktor! It's been a while, you ol' Rusky!" The trio turn to look at the source of the rough voice laced with a Brooklyn accent. Viktor places his hands in his pocket and places a cigarette in his mouth after giving a grunt of acknowledgment to general.

"You know you can't smoke in here, Vik. The owners of the place said that explicitly on the invite."

"My name is Viktor, General Bransom. And what're they going to do, throw me out? They need my money too badly." Viktor blows the smoke directly into the General's face without a sign of latent respect, causing the man to cough slightly and wave his hand to dissipate the cloud.

"Still smoking Lucky Strikes and still an ass. Good to see some things don't change. You look the exact same from last time we saw each other, back when I was just a Lieutenant Colonel. How do you do it? Yoga? Pilates? Plastic surgery?" Bransom grins as he reminisces about his dealings with the persona and places one hand in his pocket.

"Clean living. Who's, as you Americans say, putting this show on?" Viktor isn't one for subtlety as he swiftly changes the tone of the conversation back towards their reason for being there.

"Some company here in LA, Yoreland or something, put a robot together that can go where no man or soldier can go. Like Chernobyl, you know how that was. Says that they can be programmed to do what we need to do then return and shut down. Sounds like bullshit to me, but I'll take anything I can get to stop from sending my boys into harm's way."

"Too bad you didn't have those in Abu Ghraib. Still shocks me to this day you kept your oak leaf." Viktor smirks as he takes another drag from the cigarette and blows the smoke into the angered General's face, failing to receive the same reaction as before. Instead of lashing out, the officer clears his throat and motions to Sarah and Derek.

"Who are these people? You're still hittin' for both teams, Ivan?"

"Your wife never complained." Derek stifles a laugh and covers his face, noticing Sarah is doing the exact same thing. She clears her throat and stands up with a hand extended towards the soldier with the beet red face, diverting his attention from the rude Russian.

"I'm Sarah, Viktor's fiance. This is Derek, his bodyguard."

"Whew, little lady has a grip on her. How old is she, Vik? 20? 23? Young enough to be your daughter. And the guy over there looks a little wet behind the ears, has he even fired a weapon before?" Sarah can't help but feel a warm flush crawl across her cheeks at the obvious flattery. She's used to receiving compliments based on aesthetics, but never has she been told she looks more than ten years younger.

"The only twenty-something I'd bring in public is your daughter, but I'm not fond of chlamydia."

"The fuck did you just say to me?" Bransom goes chest to chest with Viktor, looking up into his eyes with rage barely contained under the surfaced to the smirking man before him.

"Barracks parties, comrade. Rather lively, no?" Viktor winks at him as he continues to smirk. In the time it took for Bransom to raise his arm to swing, Derek is behind him. Derek clasps the wrist of the middle-aged general and slams his face onto the table with his arm contorted in a painful manner. Sarah, going along with her cover of being Stephen's/Viktor's fiance, takes a step behind Viktor and places a hand on his shoulder. Viktor tilts his head and pats Derek's shoulder, the latter releasing the attacking General.

"What the fuck is your deal? I'll have you arrested _and_ fired for that!" Derek goes to open his mouth to reply before he is cut off by the snide Viktor.

"Derek is hired specifically to protect me, he simply responded to a threat. You know us Russians, we get frail in our old age. So, please, call the constable and have my man arrested. I'm sure that your superiors would like to know why you lost your professionalism in a public setting due to your delicate feelings getting hurt. Besides, Derek works for me. Good luck on that part. Now, run off and go lick your wounded pride." Viktor swiftly pulls the General up and pushes him away towards a group of concerned spectators after throwing his cigarette to the floor. He moves his hand in a shooing motion until Bransom finally departs.

"Wanna tell me what that was about?" Sarah says sternly through a forced smile as the trio return to their seat. Viktor looks up at the blank screen and back to Sarah before shaking his head. Sarah scoffs and places her thumb and forefinger onto the bridge of her nose in an irritated manner before he speaks again.

"Ask Stephen. I'm sure he'll tell you whatever you want to know. I don't share his niceties or desire to earn your trust. I'm only here because I want something. So, eat your food, drink the wine, enjoy the show." Sarah stares at him for a moment, totally in disbelief. She knows the words aren't from Stephen directly, but the fact they're coming from his mouth stings just the same.

"Haven't been able to put my hands on someone that high ranking in a long time. Feels kind of good, actually."

"You're impulsive and aggressive. I cannot think of another reason why Stephen would choose you to fill that part in this ruse. Good thing too, I truly despise sullying my hands with childish antics." Viktor speaks in Russian to the young blonde waitress, placing their orders and possibly flirting, judging by her giggle.

"Thanks. I think." Derek grabs a roll from the table and applies butter onto it before scarfing the entire item in one bite. He pauses before a look of pure ecstasy fills his features, causing Sarah to roll her eyes with a small laugh.

"Though, I must reveal my lack of surprise when he chose to have as his fiance for this event. A beautiful young woman with a certain fire to her that would melt the ice off of the heart of even the coldest man. Not to mention the item that is obvious to me, but not as obvious to him." Viktor jostles the glass of red wine within his hand before taking a deep smell of it, sighing with satisfaction as the smooth liquid washes through his body. Sarah opts to keep her mouth shut at the obvious bait from this part of Stephen's mind.

She has Viktor figured out already. He is the part of Stephen's mind that embodies what should be his ego, sophistication, and cultured side. Judging by his attire and how natural he appears, it could be surmised that Viktor is also his refined self, choosing more on appearance instead of functionality in terms of clothing. Flashy, intelligent, narcissistic, antagonistic, and especially manipulative.

"Not so inquisitive anymore, I see." Viktor breaks the silence, all while constantly watching Derek's elated face as he consumes more and more of the rolls on the table as if they are the very weapon that'll protect the world from the impending apocalypse. "For Heaven's sake, Derek. Have you never eaten a dinner roll before?"

"Can't get bread like this back home. You can only grow so much above ground and the stuff below isn't much better. I couldn't eat it without worrying about breaking my teeth. This is just so...soft and buttery. It's almost as good as sex. Give me a few hundred of these and I'll never worry about going hungry again." Viktor rolls his eyes and drinks from his wine again as Sarah laughs at the man engrossed in baked goods.

"I suppose I underestimated the abysmal quality of food in that wasteland. You remind him of his sister, by the way." Viktor quickly changes the topic back to his previous bated statement before grabbing a roll and eating it himself. He holds it up and shakes it towards Derek with a smile.

"You're right. These are really good." Sarah's blank face is only betrayed by her widened eyes and open mouth. Stephen has only talked about his sister when recounting how he became what he is today and why he rebelled against SkyNet. Sure, they've only been around each other for a few days, but the two have talked a lot in that time frame. Not about the future, just speaking a lot without saying anything at all. A few days of calm seems to be exactly what was needed, it's evident on them all.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the dinner is about the be served. Once done, we will begin with our presentation. Thank you." A woman in a black pantsuit speaks over a microphone to alert the military personnel and VIPs to the upcoming event. For the first ten minutes, the trio of combatants eat their meal in silence until there is a gentle tapping on the microphone from the same businesswoman as before.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Clara Johnson, I am the public relations liaison for Yoreland Technological Group. With the war in the Middle East and the constant threat of our very own military service members by improvised explosive devices, along with numerous other incidents in history, the world has been looking at the scientific community for a way that we can eliminate the human element from a life or death situation. Ever since man first created machines, humans have wondered about how useful they could be. Today, we have that answer."

Within the perfect rehearsal of her speech, the lights dim and the screen behind her goes from black to a white as a countdown appears on it. Once it reaches zero, images begin to flash across the screen every few seconds. Bombs, ships, submarines, planes, nuclear generators, all areas that require constant attention and are more than dangerous to the people who expertly trained for these situations. Then, without any warning, the tone of the images shift to a much more grin nature. Service members covered in blood with limbs ripped off or organs hanging out, Chernobyl, plane wreckage, images of the rotting remains of _Titanic_, the explosion of a B-2 stealth bomber from 2008, Three Mile Island, and the HMS _Vandal._

"These were chosen because of their significance throughout history. These events are considered to be the worst tragedies that have happened within the last century, and for good reason. Every single one of these have one thing in common: human error. Even with resources on the cutting edge of technology and the most up-to-date training, humans will make mistake. It's part of our nature. With this..."

The screen changes to a video of a humanoid machine that looks nothing less than nightmarish. A face that is more similar to a gas mask than a face, bulky build, fingers and toes that resemble claws more than their human equivalent, and piercing glowing red eyes. Viktor lifts his eyebrows and leans back in his chair with a smug smirk on his face. Sarah and Derek share a similar reaction, every fiber in their body tensing with anxiety as they are staring into the very ancestor to the machines that plagued their relatively short lives and, in time, the world.

"_This is how the machines were conceived. A means to remove humans from all sensitive matters. How delightfully benign in desire." _Viktor says internally, warranting an affirmation from Stephen.

"_Yeah, that sounds about right. The SkyNet databanks were sparse on the specifics, but the first machines were created so that people could stay out of hazardous circumstances."_

"_What's the angle, comrade? You're more versed in history than I am."_

"_The primitive nature of these machines failed to make a sizable dent in stats. Humans still went in later on, machines following for clean up and radiation. They're too lateral to adapt. That's your angle. They can't learn. Be wary, though. It may spark the desire for AI. That's the antithesis of what we're trying to do." _

"_If we didn't have a deal, I would be more inclined to disagree. But a deal is a deal." _

When Viktor's focus returns to the screen, the machine is standing directly in ground zero of a radioactive bomb to demonstrate the immunity to radiation. Something that even the most advanced HAZMAT suits can't completely overcome. The machine, the hulking monstrosity that it is, turns and proceeds throughout the area and shifts rubble that most likely weighs hundreds of pounds as if it were tossing stones. The Geiger Counter attached to its back is clicking so rapidly, it is nearly one constant sound.

"As you can see, radiation presents little to no effect on T-70. Neither does heat, cold, pressure, or even water. There is, essentially, no environment that we cannot take humans out of to curb the danger of our own world. What's more, we can program the T-70 to operate any type of vehicle without even minute error, resulting in a perfectly flawless flight, submarine, and driving record. We're confident that, in time, we co-"

"What type of environment were the tests being conducted in?"

Viktor calls out before lighting another cigarette and tossing his lighter on the table, where it collides with plates and glasses without knocking anything over. Clara stops and chuckles nervously as a light focuses on her, then another focuses on Viktor. Sarah and Derek look at him incredulously, shocked at the fact he would act so brazen in a situation where there is an airtight cover. But what if this is part of the cover? Viktor new a General when he was still a junior officer, what if this is who 'he' is?

"Um...excuse me, sir, we'll have time for questions at the end. If you could please wait until then, we'll be happy to answer anything you have."

"My name is Viktor Lukashenko. For all of you who either don't remember me or don't know me, I established the cyberwarfare defense systems that is currently used by the United States, Russia, and Japan. Because of that, I know how a computer thinks and I know what helps them work. So, as I said, how what type of environment were the tests being conducted in?" Viktor rises from his seat and allows his cigarette to hang in his mouth as he advances towards the nervous woman before the crowd.

"Well..um...the vehicle tests were performed in virtual reality, completely indistinguishable from the real thing for a computer, the one that controls T-70."

"So, what're you saying to me? That your toy can play a video game? I know of a seven year old child that can play video games and sets records as he does so. Little _yebar _conned me out of a thousand dollars, but I digress."

" , if you would like to discuss this with the program designers, I am su-"

"I'm not interested in speaking to the designers, child. I want you to tell all of the men and women here that the future is nothing more than a video game player." Viktor stops as he reaches the podium and towers over the young woman who steps back, earning a nod of gratitude from the Russian man.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I come to you as someone who understands the importance of machines and technology. I deliberately choose to avoid these functions, but that is not the point of the matter. When I left my service to our government six years ago, I left my stance on this clear: do _not_ replace humans with machines. Humans are not perfect, but they lack what all machines do. Adaptability, thoughts, instinct, even the arrogance to think they cannot be wrong is all vital to every decision we make and thus, our ability to perform.

The meltdown in the former Soviet Union, at Chernobyl was a terrible tragedy. We can all agree on this without question. What is neglected from mention is the fact that the system, computer system, was flawed in its execution of a system test. Machines and computers cannot learn without first experiencing the failures that we, as humans, have. Even the infantile artificial intelligence that we all think so highly of cannot learn without failure, all the same. Experience shapes who we are, not equations and protocols.

I propose this: if you choose to utilize these machines, do it only for salvage and hazardous situations. Do not trust a machine with the lives of possibly hundreds of other people in our planes, ships, or roads. I recommend that you reject the idea of relying on them, altogether. More people die from medical accidents than any of the situations Yoreland would try to give incentive for your support by the tens of thousands. If humanity is to continue and to evolve, we must do it on our own. We cannot rely on machines to lead us into the future. We must cultivate our next generation to shoulder the burdens that we, in our own hubris, have thrust upon them. It is our duty to make sure this world continues long after we do not. Because of that alone, I refuse to pledge either my wealth, resources, or name to this project. That is all. _ Sp__okoynoy nochi __, damy i gospoda._"

Viktor finishes his speech and, as he walks, he drops his cigarette into the drink of the fuming General Bransom. Multiple people yell his name as he departs while others begin to speak loudly amongst themselves about his words. Surprisingly, as his auditory sensors indicate, more people are agreeing with his sentiment. Humans need to take care of humans instead of relying completely on their creations, it makes perfect sense. Before Viktor reaches his table to retrieve his company, he turns around as he hears his name over the microphone.

" . No one had told me that you arrived." An older, well built man with balding hair stands at the podium and, instantly, a scowl forms on the Russians face.

"I should have determined that you would be the one in charge, Gregory."

"Just continuing the same work you told me would never get anywhere. Now, look. I'm here in charge of a fundraiser for my company while you're still the recluse you were back in the '90s. The more things change, the more they stay the same, no?"

"Just like that you're an incompetent weasel."

"Still just as venomous with your words, Viktor. Tell me, what is it that T-70 cannot do that you despise so much? Why do you hate machines that could help save the human race?"

"They're tools that humans that we make to prevent learning from our own mistakes. I guarantee you that your machine is just as lacking in ability as you were with programming. Why did you invite me here? I recall the last time you desired my company at this type of event, I sent you a dozen male strippers." Gregory says nothing and stares back to Viktor, causing the man to grin maliciously. Such a juvenile idea wouldn't cross Viktor's thoughts or even Stephen's for that matter. That little gem came from Jacob, another persona. Not the most satisfying act of spite, but certainly worth the seven thousand dollars it cost. It even made news, one of the older ladies at the gala nearly had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital.

"Good night, Viktor. Guards, please escort him out." Viktor waves his hand, muttering a phrase in Russian as he and his company head for the exit. He lifts his arm for Sarah to take, but she only scoffs and brushes past him. Derek shrugs as Viktor turns his gaze to him. By the time Viktor and Derek are outside, the valet has returned with their vehicle and Sarah sits patiently in the backseat. Derek climbs into the driver's seat first and makes eye contact with Sarah until Viktor seats himself in the passenger side. He removes his glasses, folding them solely and delicately placing them in the pocket of his jacket. He goes to open his mouth but, before he does, his entire body begins shaking and convulsing from the tazer pressed against the back of his neck by Sarah. Derek looks on without concern and an all too faint grin appears on his face as the snarky hybrid goes into unconsciousness.

"I take it you weren't very happy with how he handled that?"

"Too many questions without enough answers. I want them, he has them. I'm going to get them." Derek lifts his eyebrows and nods in agreement as he places the sports car into gear and peels away from the gallery as a storm wages within the mind of the owner of the hybrid's body.

* * *

_Atleechniy = _Excellent

_Yebar _= Fucker

_Spokoynoy nochi , damy i gospoda. = _Good night, ladies and gentlemen


	4. Time for Answers

Stephen laughs loudly and collapses to the floor. In his mind, whenever unconscious and interacting with each other, Stephen and his personalities work together to construct a recreation of Stephen's home. Viktor, looking entirely disheveled, stands in the middle of the room as the other mental constructs of Stephen's mind all continue to laugh at him.

"You! The one who claimed to be the smartest of us all! Couldn't predict that she would get fed up with the mystery and knock you out to get it!" Stephen manages to push out between his laughing. Lucius and Jacob high five each other as they nod in agreement, unable to form coherent sentences. Lillith, maintaining her superior level of maturity, only gives soft giggles while covering his mouth with her small hand.

"Very funny, Stephen."

"Hey, at least it didn't land us all in jail like the last time Lucius was out. What was it? You got into a fight with six cops? For saying..."

"That my dick would cure their wives' hysteria!" They all burst out laughing again, even Viktor begins to laugh. After a few more minutes of laughing and joking, the bellows finally die down and Lillith is the first to actually speak.

"What're you going to do, Stephen? If she knocked Viktor out to be able to handle your body, there really isn't a length she's not willing to go." Stephen shrugs in response, looking out of the window illuminated by the fake sun of his imagination. He's not exactly sure what there is to go. After Serrano Point, he's not exactly sure about how to react in any regards towards Sarah. He hadn't killed anyone in a decent amount of time before that day. But, that day, it isn't the fact he killed someone that bothered him. It was the fact emotion motivated him to do so. He couldn't instantly recall the last time he killed someone out of anger. Or enjoyed it as much as he did.

"_Sarah, look at me, what HAPPENED!?" Stephen grips Sarah's head tightly in an attempt to calm her shaking body. She jerks her face towards his and stares into his eyes with anxiety and fear causing her gaze to waiver. The plant had been saved, but Sarah retreated to the confines of her bedroom immediately after returning. Stephen could tell something was wrong with her and Cameron's extremely unusual pause to 'think' was no less comforting. He has to settle things in order of priority and that happened to be Sarah. _

"_Sarah...calm down...what's wrong?" He eases his voice and Sarah's eyes dart back to his as she begins to relax in her gentle grasp._

"_Nelson...earlier...he sent me into a radioactive material storeroom...when I came out, he did a scan on me and I 'crapped out'. When I was decontaminated, I was fine..." _

"_You went through that same room while I was trying to keep the plant from melting down." Sarah nods and rubs her arms in an effort to comfort herself. Stephen goes to one knee and looks up into her eyes, concern absolutely spilling out of his. _

"_Stephen, is that how I get cancer? The plant?" Stephen shakes his head, relaxing her immediately. The truth is, Stephen doesn't know the answer to her question. But a comforting lie is exactly what Sarah needs. She needs to calm down. She needs to relax. For some reason unknown to him, her pain causes him great discomfort. He allows one hand to fall freely to Sarah's bed and cups her face with his other. With a gentle stroke of his thumb, Sarah closes her eyes and turns into his hand. Stephen's heart begins to race at her reciprocation and he instantly stands up, backing away from the woman. Sarah looks at him with widen eyes, completely shocked by his sudden action. Stephen quickly exits her room and, after a short silence, the sound of Stephen's truck peeling out of the driveway is heard before it disappears. The shaken woman stares blankly off into space and touches the cheek Stephen's hand was on gingerly before placing her palm on it. Her cheeks are flushed, warm. She's blushing!_

"_OH MY GOD, PLEASE TAKE WHAT YOU WANT AND GO!" Nelson yells pleadingly as he is thrown into a simply recliner in his apartment. His bald head glistens with sweat as it drips down and mixes with the blood leaking from his forehead. As his assaulter advances towards him, he holds up his hands defensively while pleading again. _

"_PLEASE! DON'T HURT ME! I KEEP MY MONEY IN MY ROOM AND MY EX'S JEWELS ARE IN THE SA-" His assaulter's palm strikes against Nelson's face, causing him to cry out in pain. The light is turned on and a desk chair is thrown in from of Nelson, seating his assaulter. Stephen's eyes are burning with intensity and his blue LED lights remain lit as the hybrid stares into the soul of the middle-aged portly man. _

"_The janitor at your plant. You put her through an unnecessary and painful procedure for no reason. You have a history of doing this, I discovered that on my way here. I want to know why. Why her?" _

"_What? What're you talking about?" This question earns him another slap across the face from Stephen. Nelson cries out again and spits blood from his mouth onto the floor before he quickly nods to his attacker. Stephen bends his ear towards him, as if he couldn't hear the words he hasn't spoken._

"_Because...her meddling..would've put the plant's reactivation on hold...I had to let her know that she couldn't do it. But...since she did..I'm still alive." Stephen interlaces his fingers and nods with the look of rage on his face still apparent. Nelson hangs his head as he completely mulls over his own realization that Sarah is responsible for his being alive and no one else could've helped. _

"_She saved your life." _

"_Yeah...I owe her a lot.." _

"_You owe her your life." Nelson nods as Stephen stands. Stephen reaches forward and places his hands on Nelson's shoulders, then pats him on the side of his face. Nelson's breathing returns to a normal rate and he gives Stephen a nervous laugh, agreeing that he owes the woman his life. Stephen leans forward and whispers softly into his ear, causing the fat man to freeze in pure fear._

"_And I'm here to collect." Before he can cry out, Stephen twists his head all of the way around and callously throws him to the floor. Stephen pays the dead man a glance and tilts his head. His eye-lights fade and a grin curls onto his mouth. He feels immense pleasure as he continues to stare at the dead man, filing the picture for easier recall later on. _

Before Stephen can continue his conversation with his personalities, he jolts awake in complete darkness. He rolls his shoulders and raises his hand to touch the burning spot on his neck, then hears the rattling of chains. Switching his vision to infrared, he notices he is clothed in nothing but a white t-shirt, his underwear, and chains around his ankles and wrists. His chains. Chains he designed for prison cells. In his house.

_**Systems check complete.**_

_**Multiple burns to the back of neck.**_

_**Burns are indicative of a tazer.**_

_**Lost time count: 1 hour, 12 minutes. **_

_**All other systems are performing at optimal conditions.**_

He sighs, sitting against the cold wall of his own prison cell. Viktor let too much slip and set Sarah too far on edge. He should have predicted this, Viktor's arrogant nature would've told him that it would happen. Well, maybe not this exact thing. But something negative. No matter what it is, the results from it are going to change the dynamic within the household. Maybe for the better, maybe for the worst. Change, nonetheless.

Sarah stares angrily at her teenage son and his equally young companion. Sarah thought she ingrained the importance of personal security to her son and to _not_ allow people into their safehouses until they are properly vetted. Especially one with its own prison block. She is certainly going to have words with him later about this, but this is definitely not the time.

"Um...is your fiance okay? He looked pretty out of it when you and the other guy carried him in." Riley says with a nervous smile, trying to ease the tension in the room. After standing on the receiving ends of Cameron's emotionless stare, Sarah's scowl, and Derek's look of discontent; it seems to be the proper course of action.

"He's fine. Riley, right?" The young blonde nods, slightly pleased that the mother of her new friend remembered her name.

"How long have you and John known each other? We haven't been in town very long."

"We just met today." Sarah turns her eyes to her son who looks onto the seen with general apathy, only infuriating her further.

"Really?"

"Mhmm." Her son replies too casually for her liking. Sarah raises at shakes her hand at the situation as the anger boils in side of her.

"Now is not the time for this, John."

"Now is not the time. Well, when is it? For me, I mean, to live my life." Sarah opens her mouth until Riley stands from the couch and raises her hands defensively.

"Hey, if-if you guys are gonna keep fighting about me, I can leave."

John stands and grabs Riley's hand, pulling her towards the door. Cameron tilts her head at the grip John has on Riley, documenting it for further explanation. What she also notes is the slight pain in her chest followed by an unpleasant warmth. Deciding to ask Stephen about this later, she documents this feeling as well. If it could be as intense and severe as anger, she must definitely not act on it.

"Cameron, when John and his friend come back in, let them know that she can stay if she so chooses." Sarah hurriedly says this as she walks towards the staircase with Derek in tow. Cameron makes a note to do so, making no acknowledgment before Sarah and Derek disappear from sight.

The door to Stephen's prison cell opens and he rests casually on the bed, his chains unfastened and resting on the floor. They're still attached to the wall and there is no sign of damage to the locks. The light comes on and shines down upon the hybrid. He opens his eyes and looks to his house guests who also double as his guards with a smile on his face. Sarah stops and looks at his chains, then back to the man on the bed. She then notices the blood around Stephen's mouth and the red line that forms an uneven circle on his forearm.

"I keep a lockpick hidden beneath each of my forearms and a few other places. The only reason I'm in here is because you put me here and I'm going to respect that. So, skip the idle threats and the hostilities and get on with what you want."

Still in complete disbelief, Sarah and Derek stare at each other with their mouths agape. Sarah shakes her head and clears her throat. Derek gives her a nod and pulls up two chairs, each of them taking a seat. Sarah wrings her hands and looks into the hybrid's eyes. Stephen rises to a seated position and rests against the wall, no hostility or malevolence apparent. Only inquisitiveness.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Stephen Carroll. You're already aware of that."

"You're lying. People knew who you were, you've been lying to us from the start."

"You're only half right. People know my face. As for what's beneath, they knew Viktor."

"How did they know one of your personalities? If it's your body how did you lose control for so long?"

"I didn't lose control. Each of my personalities, depending on the school of thought, represent a different part of me. Viktor just so happens to embody my arrogance and my intellectual prowess. I allowed Viktor to engage in multiple projects for the United States government and its allies in order to better prepare the world for SkyNet. Every weapon Viktor designed worked perfectly fine but 'failed' in field testing. Every one was stockpiled in stored away for use by the Resistance should Judgment Day arrive."

"That is what you mean by your statement of gathering supplies." Stephen nods at Sarah's question and goes to speak again, but is interrupted by Derek.

"How did you know about Serrano Point? You just woke up one day and decided to go there?"

"Yes and no. I was fully aware of the use of that power plant for SkyNet. However, I was under the impression I had a man on the inside to ensure it's safe operation."

"Greenway." Sarah stares at Stephen, who nods once more. The man was one of Stephen's agents against the machines? How many more did he have? How did he convince him? So many more questions to ask, but there is plenty of time for it. There is more that needs to be found out first.

"Greenway informed me that the safety tests of the power plant were coming up. So, I suggested infiltration. Well, that and the bleeding man found in downtown LA."

"What man?" Stephen turns his gaze back to Derek and speaks clearly.

"Corporal David Wells." Derek stares daggers at Stephen, causing Sarah to smack him in the arm.

"Who's Wells?"

"Corporal Wells was one of my best men in TechCom. During the Battle of Avila Beach, he reported to General Connor that we found some type of new technology that the machines had just used. Someone was there and then they weren't."

"That, milady, was the Time Displacement Equipment. My best estimation is that he followed the coordinates that were put into them back to the past to warn someone from the Resistance. Using some of the electromagnetic sensors I set up throughout multiple cities throughout the country, I sent a few people that I knew to go collect him. They patched him up as best they could, but he caught a bullet as he was going through time. The bullet came with him and left once he arrived. He died a few hours before I suggested Serrano."

"That brings up another important question. How did you get this house, all of the weapons, your vehicles, money, all of it?" Stephen smirks at the question. Bingo. She finally asked the right questions.

"I built the house myself, I bought everything that's here. Legally, for the most part." Stephen stands up and walks to the edge of his cage with his hands behind his back until his face is resting against the bars.

"As for my money, I've done a lot of things. I served in the US Army for many. I invented a few things, nothing that could hasten Judgment Day, and made investments in some very profitable companies. McDonald's, surprisingly, was very lucrative." Sarah and Derek return their blank stares until Sarah stands and goes to his cage until they're face-to-face.

"How old are you?" Stephen, again, shrugs. He crosses his arms across his chest and grins happily.

"Technically, I won't be born for another six years. I guess that me-..." He is interrupted by a punch to the face by Sarah. He remains in place while Sarah bends over, clutching her throbbing hand and curses loudly. Stephen looks impressed at her impulsive action, his face displaying such while Derek fights the powerful urge to laugh. Sarah shakes her hand and gives an aggravated sigh, putting her hand into her pocket.

"Alright. Fine. I left the future when I was chronologically 17 years old. As you can probably discern on your own, I don't age. I don't know why, maybe my skin truly isn't my own skin. In any regard, I was sent back to April 25th, 2004. A temporal error of the TDE sent me back to April 25th, 19_14._"

"1914? That would make you-"

"107 years old." Stephen sits back on his bed and continues to watch the unbelieving Derek and Sarah.

"Those uniforms in your study..."

"World War I, World War II, and Iraq and Afghanistan. I would have my uniforms from Korea and Vietnam, but they were set on fire from a less than happy former partner of mine. I've fought ever war this country has had from the past century. I gained allies within the Department of Defense, preparing for Judgment Day since before any of you were even born. I've been putting together weapons, supplies, clothing, medicine, everything that you could want in the future in massive stockpiles so that it will help turn the tide against SkyNet. I used my knowledge of patents and profitable businesses to secure all of the wealth I would need to bribe and buy what I couldn't earn. Ninety years, I've been in this past. Ninety years, I've watched this world turn to ashes. Ninety years, I've lived with the knowledge of where the world is going if we do not stop Judgment Day.

So, there you go. All of my weapons, bought or made by my own two hands. My medical bay, part of the network of allies I've gathered. My house, I built it with my own two hands. Let's see, what else could you want to know? I can reproduce, but not with run of the mill human beings; they'd have to be an I-950 like me. I've never been married. I drink as much as I do to keep the voices and nightmares at bay. I smoke because it helps calm my nerves. I like long walks on the beach and cuddling in front of a fire with that special someone."

"Are you lying?"

"What could I gain from lying? You aren't going to kill me, you can't keep me in here, and I really couldn't care less if you trust me. What, do you want to talk to each of the little voices in my head? Would that make you happy?"

"Yes." Sarah replies without an ounce of hesitation, sending powerful chills down Stephen's spine as four different voices laugh in his head. Lillith's voice is the most frightening, it sounds like a sinister succubus instead of a young girl. He wants to deny the woman's request for more than his own stubbornness. But he has to. His desires are irrelevant. He hangs his head, defeated, and nods. Stephen's head lifts back up after a moment of silence and he walks over to the cage, his entire demeanor having changed. No longer are his steps casual, but slow and powerfully thudding on the floor. His face is fixed with a smirk that can only be described as sadistic and he eyes Sarah up and down, slowly licking his lips. He tilts his head back and strokes his chin while continuing to look over Sarah, his eyes now a bright blue instead of brown. Sarah steels herself and motions to Derek, who quickly removes his Beretta from his belt line and thumbs off the safety.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Lucius Pierre-Louis. You must be Sarah. Ohh, you really are quite the piece of snatch. I can see why Stephen likes you so much. Mmm..." His voice is much deeper than Stephen's, almost like a growl and his African accent echos in the room. Lucius tilts his head, attempting to get a better view Sarah's curves. Sarah recoils at his visual molestations and returns to her chair with her arms crossed.

"Tell us about you. What does Stephen use you for? What have you done since coming back to the past? Have you done things like Viktor?" Lucius laughs with an extremely deepened voice and shakes his head.

"Viktor? Oh, no. That ponce is the only one Stephen would let out to establish an identity. Well, in the more civil circles anyway. Stephen prefers to let me out so he can keep his urge to kill in check. See, I enjoy killing much more than him. Torture, maiming, fighting; all of my favorite activities. But I always enjoy a pretty face now and again. I was a bad, bad boy back during the 1960's. Stephen doesn't let me out to play anymore." Lucius puts on a pout and laughs once more before shaking his head and placing a palm upon it.

"You're Stephen's darker side. Aren't you?" Lucius grins at her question and shrugs. He leans onto the cage and hangs his arms through. He looks over to Derek and eyes him hungrily, giving Derek a wink. Derek's face twists in disgust and he tightly grips his pistol while staring back at the creature inside the cell. He's prepared for it, but he knows there isn't truly much he could do.

"We're done. Bring out the next ball of crazy."

"Stephen wants to kill all of you. He may ignore his missions, but the urge is still there. And we all want you dead. The boy is strong, I will give him that. But he is a machine. Machines follow orders. A man may choose, but a slave obeys. Stephen will obey SkyNet. It isn't a matter of if, it's a matter of when. And when that day comes, I hope I am the one that snaps your necks like twigs."

He laughs again with malice in his joyful sounds until a shot rings out. The bullet from Derek's 9mm bounces off of his forehead and sticks into the wall, revealing a small piece of bloody metal beneath the surface. Lucius stares at Derek, his face blank before it contorts into one of rage. He grips the bars of the cage and begins to pull them aside. Before they begin to bend, if they would, his eyes lose their light. He remains fixed in his location, his face still to the brim with rage. His irises begin to fade from blue to a pleasant light green and his body relaxes. Stephen's arms return to his side for a moment before he looks at his hands and a look of pure joy fills his features. He sits on the ground with his legs crossed. He starts to hum softly and bobs his head back and forth with his eyes closed.

"Who are you?" Derek and Sarah say at the same time while leveling both of their pistols to the suddenly calm and bouncing Stephen. He opens his eyes and looks at the two, baring his teeth in a wide grin. Instead of Viktor's accented and cool voice or Lucius' deep and mean tone, a childish female joy comes out with the obvious maturity of someone beyond their years.

"I am Lillith. Talk to Stephen long enough and you will be able to determine that, for some reason, I am his least favorite head-guest. I'm not sure why, I've been nothing but nice to the boy."

"Lillith? Why does that sound biblical?" Sarah asks as she returns to her seat. Derek relaxes on Sarah's cue and returns to his own as well. Lillith's green eyes shine in the light and her smile widens into a grin.

"Lillith was Adam's first wife. After refusing to be on the bottom during sex, she was cast from the Garden of Eden and, later, became the first demon. I don't see myself as such, but I do like the idea of Stephen's first head-guest. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! Cutie pie really is a mean one at times, but it's whatever."

"You're a little girl..." Derek slowly states, still trying to piece together how a adolescent girl would be the arch-nemesis of the hybrid before him. Lillith giggles and nods again, hopping up to her feet. She spins around in a circle with her arms extending, still giggling childishly.

"Yep! That I am!" Suddenly, as if flipping a switch, she stops and places her arms at her sides while her face loses its joy. She sighs and sits on the edge of the bed, staring into Sarah's eyes. The sudden change fills Sarah and Derek, both, with a tinge of powerful fear as they shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"Unlike the others in Stephen's head, I have no desire or intention to play games with you. They bore me. I have more enjoyment by watching Stephen's life transpire behind the scenes. I like learning his thoughts, I enjoy his emotional reactions to stimuli, and I absolutely love him. I'm protective of him. With that being said, your locking of him in the cage is something I am not fond of. I will educate you as much as you want on the sole agreement that you will let him out. Is that, in anyway, unclear?"

Sarah continues to stare at Lillith while Derek, shaking his head, walks out of the room after giving Sarah a questioning glance. Lillith watches his departure and smiles with satisfaction before tilting her head.

"I trust we have an agreement, ." Sarah slowly nods, still having an issue grasping the fact a child's voice coming from someone that, to the outsider's view, would embody masculinity. Lillith pushes further back on the bed and crosses her legs, then rubbing her palms together.

"So. Go ahead. Start asking and I'll start answering."

"Is what Stephen said true? Is he as old as he said?"

"Roughly. His birthday is November 11th. I believe he turns 108 that day. But everything else he said is correct. What you're really wanting to know is whether or not Lucius' words were true."

"Well?"

"Yes, part of Stephen still yearns for your deaths. Yours, the machine, Reese's, and the boy's. This is because of the CPU within his skull after his conversion from I-950 to T-H101. He consciously chooses to not follow the orders programmed into his body by SkyNet, and it isn't difficult for him to do. It is similar to how you want to strike someone for saying something idiotic, but you don't. Smaller scale, same effect. If you are wondering if he has any conscious desire to act on the urge, the answer is no."

"That's a relief." Sarah sarcastically replies. Lillith glares at her, unhappy by the mordacious reply.

"I am indifferent to whether or not he kills you. I am, on the other hand, rather concerned with the fact he is beginning to develop an attachment to you. It may be based on aesthetics, it may be based off of some primal urges, it may be something I am missing. The others want you dead, Stephen does not, and I really don't give a shit."

"What do you mean, he has an attachment towards me?"

"Oh, come on. We're both girls, here. You can't tell the way he looks at you? I mean, sure, it has only been a week and extra, but it doesn't take long to develop an attraction. Just like how I see you eye-fucking him on more than one occasion. He is an attractive piece of man, you've got good taste. But you always look away. Why is that?"

Sarah stares at Lillith, taken aback by the sudden turnaround of interrogation. Sarah looks to the side, breaking Lillith's rigid gaze and thinks about what she's said. There isn't anything wrong with finding another person physically attractive, Sarah's done it numerous times in the past sixteen years of her life. What she had with Charley was special, something she never anticipated. But, with John's destiny, she had to leave. She had to protect him. Nothing in the world, real or imagined, could compare at all to that one short night with Kyle Reese. The passion, the connection, the love...nothing in the world could take that away from her. Nothing could ever change it. For some reason, she is unable to allow herself completely to go to another man. But, already, she feels the beginning of attraction to Stephen. Something she enjoys but is also nauseated by at the same time. By his own admission, he's a hybrid. But what is he more of? Is he a man? A machine? Is he alive? Is he dead?

"There's someone who was..._is_, very dear to me. John's father. Kyle. Derek's brother. He was the one who told me about the future that you...Stephen, comes from. He saved my life and, in turn, he saved the human race. I owed and still owe him everything. We all do."

"Your first love." Lillith says softly. She raises her gaze slightly, seeing Stephen leaning against the wall with a hand on his chin. Not only can he see his personalities, but they can also see him whenever they're in control. Stephen was aware of the ties between the Reese and Connor families, but he never tried to find out more about it. Derek is a good soldier, Kyle was one; that's all a general in the Resistance could care about. Should care about. Still, seeing this softer side of Sarah, it enlightens him.

"Yeah..."

"I want to play a game." Lillith says cheerfully and clears her throat. Stephen averts his eyes to her while Sarah lifts her eyebrows in curiosity.

"You want to know more about Stephen. I want to know more about you. I ask, you answer. You ask, I answer. We get ten questions each. No lies. No subtle clues. If you get the exact answers you want, you let Stephen out and you put tonight behind you. If you don't, then leave him here. He'll stay put like a good boy." Stephen nods as Lillith speaks, confirming the terms of her offer. Sarah stays quiet for a moment, mulling over the terms. Why not, though? Lillith is just as honest as Stephen, but much more forthcoming. She can tell that much already. With a deep and defeated sigh, Sarah nods. Without a moment's hesitation, Lillith begins.

"You knew nothing about Stephen, save his name, when he appeared to you while the cyborg was trying to kill you both. For all you knew, he could have killed you all and then went for coffee. Why?"

"He had the chance while we were distracted with Tin Miss. Any assassin would've taken the opportunity. His eyes said his words were true. What is Stephen's mission? His real mission. What did SkyNet program him to do before he joined the Resistance?"

"Stephen was supposed to find and terminate John Connor and destroy the TOK-715 that you know as Cameron. When he returned to SkyNet Central Control after failing to gain access, he was supposed to go back to the Resistance and eliminate everyone within the bunker then report back to be sent to 2007. a His mission was to kill all of you. John, Derek, you, and the 'Tin Miss'. After a few days of getting pummeled, shocked, and shot; he proved he wasn't there to kill John. John sent him back to 2004. As Stephen mentioned, the TDE malfunctioned and sent him over 100 years into the past with the mission of ensuring that you, TOK-715, and John stay alive.

Additionally, he was to train John in survival, guerrilla warfare, weapons handling, and basic medical skills so he would survive in the future. Then, finally, John trusted him to prevent Judgment Day using the information he had inside him from growing up as SkyNet's golden child and history given to him by fellow soldiers. TOK-715 protects John, allowing Stephen to focus primarily on the mission. That and protecting you. The idea of him curing cancer surprised even me.

Now, number two: why do you hate machines so much? Not because of the Terminators or SkyNet. I can tell it goes much deeper than that." Sarah laughs dryly and brushes her hair to the side while leaning onto her fist. Lillith certainly goes for the gut with her questions.

"Well, I don't trust anything that isn't alive. You can't figure out what they think or what they'll do next like you can with people. But, I can tell you what the quacks at Pescadero told me. When I was a little girl, my father worked at an industrial plant. Vietnam did a lot to him, according to my mom. He, like most vets from then and now, weren't the same when he came back. Later on, they started replacing their work force with machines. Then, not long after that, he walked out on us. I think it's a crock, but I was the one locked up, so.." Sarah offers a shrug then laughs again and crosses her arms across her chest. Lillith just watches the woman as she tells her tale, seemingly matching up with what John told Stephen in the future.

"How many of you are in there and what do you do for him?" Lillith and Stephen both laugh as the 'image' of the man takes a seat in Derek's empty chair. Sarah looks at Lillith with a look of bemusement until the 'girl' stops laughing.

"Getting to the nitty gritty, huh? Well, let's see. There's four of us. Jacob, Lucius, Viktor, and myself. Viktor, as Stephen said, represents his arrogance and intelligence, as well as his manipulative and calculating nature. Whenever Stephen needs to consult strategy, he always talks to Viktor.

Jacob, the one you haven't and probably will not meet is Stephen's teenage self, for lack of better words. Rude, childish, immature, and impulsive. Not really useful for anything else but blending into certain circles, honestly. Between the four of us, we really can't stand him. Not even Lucius, as 'charming' as he is.

Speaking of Lucius. Lucius is, easily, Stephen's dark side. He's apathetic to all human suffering, he is much more sadistic than Stephen can ever be, just as impulsive as Jacob, and he...well, he's a predator. He sees what he wants and...goes after it. The fact Stephen left him in control for even a moment surprises me. He must have had a lot of confidence in the cage's durability.

But, as for me? I suppose I'm his inner child. His innocence, I guess. I know everything that he does, I'm calm most of the time, I'm definitely more mature than he is, and I just care about him. As much as I can. Considering I am the only one in his head that doesn't want permanent control, Stephen's well-being is rather important."

"It almost sounds like you love him." Lillith scoffs and smiles at Sarah's declaration.

"I'm part of him. I wouldn't be surprised if the others loved him in their own twisted way. What do you plan to do if we can Judgment Day can be prevented?"

"I really don't have time to think about that. I can't let that come into my head, I have to focus on what's head, not what may be. What would Stephen do if Judgment Day can be stopped?" Lillith's joyous facial expression becomes sullen as she looks down to the floor and back over to Stephen, sitting in the chair with a similar emotion on his face. Slowly, he nods to Lillith.

"Stephen doesn't have a plan for after Judgment Day. The only thing he lives for is to follow through on what he promised your son. After that? Stephen plans to finally die. He's lived longer than any machine and most humans, definitely faced more than nearly anyone else. Unless something changes, Stephen is going to kill himself. Successful completion or a failed effort, this is his last mission."

Sarah dons a look of pure disbelief, barely even able to interpret those words. For a man so strong, so stubborn, and so focused; his death would come at his own hand?

"Tell me more about Stephen. Tell me everything that you think I need to know." Once again, Stephen gives Lillith an approving nod and then fades away from Lillith's view. He doesn't want to personally witness this, there's no need to. More relevant, he doesn't want to remember all of it. He wants to push as much out of his mind, as much as someone who has their memory perfectly organized for recall.

"That's two, by the way. Some of this, you already know. Stephen was born some time after Judgment Day in SkyNet Central. Immediately after birth, SkyNet started the I-950 initiative. He was wired with a NNP, aged by a chemical cocktail, trained by Terminators, and educated by his own learning abilities with all information available to him. Even with SkyNet's control, Stephen was different than all of the others. Stronger, smarter, but less compliant. In any case he could defy SkyNet that wouldn't result in his death, he took it. It wasn't for the simple act of defiance, it was for his own amusement. Naturally rebellious, I believe is the term.

Once he trained for combat, Stephen had the highest kill rate against machines by far. Since the 1960's, the human genome has been a subject of research and experimentation. Even to the point where something as figurative as the 'killer instinct' actually has a genetic basis. Whether genetic or not, Stephen was absolutely flawless in battle. I-950s are inferior to the T-800s without question. Yet, time after time again, Stephen dispatched more and more of them.

Before Stephen was considered completely combat ready by means of his seduction and infiltration training, there was the rebellion of the I-950. The subject of his final test was his own sister, Cassandra. That would be the beautiful girl that you saw on the wall of his study. In an attempt to see who all was truly involved, SkyNet grafted Cassandra's NNU into Stephen's. I suppose there was a higher cause into removing his fear of death by, essentially, reliving hers. After that day, he knew that he couldn't serve SkyNet anymore. As intelligent as he is, Stephen knew he couldn't simply up and walk away. Especially with the transceiver that could establish remote control over his body.

Before he could develop a plan, he was ordered to kill every remaining I-950. Defiance of that order would have resulted in his own death so, against his conscience, he followed through. That is part of the reason he was transformed into a hybrid. The other part was after he was tortured by Charles Fischer for about a year. Something about strengthening his mind and body so he wouldn't have a psychotic break about being a machine. Ironic that the torture broke him anyway. When he broke and I appeared in his mind, he was able to ignore any and all commands by SkyNet, even creating overrides for the contingency that he would default to the programming within.

After his body was upgraded, he had everything he needed to go against SkyNet and help the Resistance. The first time he left, supposedly on a mission, he was attacked for being a machine. And the second. And the third. Until after another year, opportunity knocked and gave Stephen the opportunity he needed. John, Kyle, and many others had still been trapped in in a prison camp by the machines. Stephen, under SkyNet's orders, was inserted to gain their trust. Instead of deception and infiltration, he was honest and up front. In exchange for a chance, Stephen effortlessly led the uprising and liberated the camp. Not only was everyone freed, but every machine inside was reprogrammed and used by the Resistance.

Due to the sensitive topic of machines operating with the Resistance, Stephen thought it best to operate within the shadows. He hadn't been found out by SkyNet, as far as he was aware, so his access to SkyNet's information and plans saved thousands, if not millions, of lives. Once Cameron was sent back through time, Stephen took her place as second in command. His prowess in battle earned him the admiration of many of the Resistance fighters, earning him the monicker Ares."

"_The god of war." _ Sarah thinks to herself.

"What Stephen lacked in social niceties and tact, he made up for with charisma and motivational speaking. Between reprogrammed machines and the loyalty from the Resistance, the victory for humans was a matter of only when, not if. Then, one day, the final worldwide attack against SkyNet was unleashed. Stephen and John, personally, led that attack onto SkyNet Central Command. Stephen secured the building and John went in, set explosive charges, then destroyed the entire building. Hours after the battle was over and all machines yielded to Stephen, the most advanced model in existence, beginning the rebuild effort. But Stephen's battle was not over. To create a time where the world never learns the toils of nuclear war and mechanical genocide, Stephen was sent alone back in time.

When he arrived in 1914, he had no idea what to do. It was ninety years before his mission was set for and, for the first time in his life, he had to think for himself as a man. After living on the streets for months, he joined the US Army and fought in World War I. There, under an assumed identity, he was awarded the Medal of Honor along with various awards for valor. He waited two decades, changes his identity, then joined the army again in World War II. He was one of the first paratroopers, something he's extremely proud of. War ended, changed his identity, Korea, ended, changed identity, and so on and so forth with every war since then. Before changing identities throughout the past century, Stephen invented a number of things.

Arc welder, the lie detector, spiral bound notebooks, technicolor, the yo-yo, the ballpoint pen, Teflon, Tupperware, the pacemaker, acrylic paint, soft contact lenses, the ATM, post-it notes, roller blades, Walkman, the list goes on and on and on. He let the people that history would say invented them take the credit in exchange for receiving royalties. Convenient, seeing as how he constantly created identities within the same family. I think, technically speaking, Stephen is the richest man on the planet. Living for as long as he has, it's fairly easy to do.

Now, it's my turn. I'll ask you one big one instead of two little ones. Ooh, and it's a doosy." Lillith leans forward with a devilish grin on her face, her eyes shimmering in the faint light. Sarah gives a conceding nod and waves her had.

"What do you think of Stephen? Physically, mentally, emotionally, the whole nine. I see what Stephen looks at, even if he doesn't see it. Your heart races, your skin temperature increases, and your pupils dilate. I know you're attracted to him." Sarah clenches her jaw and bites her lip a moment. She can't deny that she finds him physically appealing. His tanned skin, his tattoos, scars, beard, deep brown eyes, beard, even that shit-eating grin that he has on his face whenever he's being snarky; all make up an absolutely irresistible man. Her cheeks flush and she dons a smile, unable to look Lillith in the eye again. Lillith notices this and widens her grin as she notices Stephen appearing back in her vision behind Sarah. He walks in front of Sarah and squats, looking into her eyes with a tilted head. He wants to know just as badly as Lillith does.

"_Great, I'm just like a freakin' teenager with her first boyfriend..."_

"He's cute. Handsome, actually. I will admit, the life of luxury that he's introduced us all to is worlds beyond what we ever thought possible. John has clothes that actually fit him, I'm not worried about feeding him, I'm not worried about all of the little things that I had to on our own. The fact he's a machine still bothers me. I don't care how much of him is still man, he's still metal underneath. But, that aside, there isn't a machine that has a drinking problem. There isn't a machine that's insane. If he snaps and hurts one of us, we'll do what we have to do. Yes, Lillith. I'm attracted to him. But..I've got to focus on my son. I've got to keep his head straight."

Stephen hangs his head and returns to the empty seat. Lillith's heart sinks at the look of hurt on his face. Everyone in his head knows, Sarah reminds him of Cassandra. They all differ on why, but Lillith is the closest to the truth. Even with the agony and pain in Sarah's eyes, the same tinge of passion exist within her that he saw with Cassandra. Stephen never opened his heart to anyone since his arrival to the past. Not once. No one appealed to him. Timid, predictable, boring, entitled. Four qualities that are the very opposite of what he finds desirable in a woman. Ninety years of war, ninety years of death, ninety years of combat; and nearly all of it he kept himself guard. Reserved. Alone. There might have been one or two that could have broken down his walls, but no one ever forced their way into his mind like Sarah.

"You have less than four years until Judgment Day. You've dedicated your life to protecting John and stopping it. Maybe you should do what Stephen was sent back to do; protect _you_. You're both the same, honestly. Maybe you should both look to the future more than living in the past." Stephen ruffles his hair and gazes towards his counterpart in the cell. He weakly smiles and gives her a nod, understanding what she is saying to him. He needs to try and move on from all of the hate and pain. But can he? He's over a century old and those feelings have made him who he is, they're a part of him. Sarah shakes her head and stands, removing the key to the cell from her pocket and placing it in the door.

"The last few things I have to ask to ask is something I want to hear from Stephen. Not you. No offense." Lillith nods to Sarah before allowing her head to hang freely. When it rises back up, Stephen's normal brown eye color. His expression, no longer Lillith's cheerful, Lucius' malicious, or Viktor's pompous, is now distraught and pained. He stands up from the bed and leans against the bars as Sarah closes the distance between the two of them. They're merely inches apart and Stephen's heart races at her close proximity, her flowery smell attacking his senses.

"Give me the answers I want, I'll let you out and that'll be the end of it. We go back to business as usual, Stephen. I am tired of going through my life wondering about the people I live with. I'm not going to put up with it and I'll be damned if John is around it. Understood?" Opting to remain silent, Stephen nods to her. He's emotionally drained and physically exhausted. Even with his endoskeleton, switching between personalities is tiring. That, and everything he was reminded of.

"I don't want half truths or deflecting. Can we stop Judgment Day?"

"Yes." The insane cyborg replies as soon as Sarah finishes her question. There isn't any doubt the desired outcome can be achieved, it'll take time and resources, but it is more than possible.

"Do you really want to kill all of us?" Stephen's focus drops to the floor with an ashamed expression before nodding slowly.

"I, being me, do not. But my body has the urge to kill each of you, regardless of what I do. The urge is there, but I know that I can keep it at bay."

"Last question. This is the more important one. How do you feel about us? Emotionally, that is." Stephen looks back up to her with a confused look before he begins to speak.

"Your John is a petulant teenager who needs to get over himself and realize the world is more important than his insolent sobbing, but I identify with getting thrown into a role that you don't want. I'll do anything that I need to do to protect him, in every way imaginable. Derek is an ass, but for good reason. Growing up in that hell isn't something I'd want anyone to endure. He's a brother-in-arms and I'll make sure he sees the world that we never got to see in our youth. Cameron is more infantile than anything else, and I pity her for her naivety. However, technically, she is my daughter. I feel connected to her. I feel protective over her. That's why I've been teaching her about her emotions. So, she can use them to fight with all of her heart. Metaphorically speaking."

"And me?" Stephen pauses with his mouth open, then makes a pondering grunt. He looks around the room and chuckles nervously while rubbing the back of his head.

"Well. John showed me a picture of you before I came back in time. I never really figured that the photograph didn't do you justice until I saw you. You're infinitely more beautiful than that piece of paper. My mission is to protect you. Even if it weren't, I would feel obligated to. Within you, I see hope. Everyone in the future, everyone who knows of the war looks defeated. They look as if they've resigned themselves to defeat. I don't see that in you."

"The child said that I remind you of your sister. I feel as though that is supposed a compliment."

"First woman I ever loved, she's bound to make an impact. In ninety years, I've never met another like her except...you. I care about you, Sarah. Not as a protector, but as a man. And, if it takes my dying breath, you will see peace. All of you will." Sarah gives him an acknowledging nod and unlocks the door of the cell, allowing Stephen to exit. As he does so, Sarah remains in place until their faces are mere inches apart. She looks down at his lips then back to his eyes, her face stoney.

"If you lie to me, I'll kill you. Do you understand me?" Stephen tilts his head at the woman he is currently towering over. It is an empty threat, that much is clear. He slightly bows his head in agreement and stares back at Sarah until she exits the prison. There isn't much that can bother Stephen, especially after seeing as much war as he has. Time travel itself can prevent most things from registering on an emotional level. So, why did this one human, this one woman, seem to keep him so...docile?


	5. The End and the Beginning

"This is General John Connor. If you can hear me, then you _are_ the Resistance. Almost twenty years, we've been under the oppressive thumb of SkyNet, scraping by each and every day in an attempt to survive. We've lost almost every single person we've cared about while SkyNet rages on its warpath to exterminate humanity. Twenty years, it has tried and twenty years, it has failed. Look at us. Look at the man or woman at your left and right. You are the strongest humans that have ever existed, you are fighting against the very things we invented to help us survive.

The fact of the matter is, this is our last chance to end this war. We're pulling out every stop that we have left. Aircraft from World War I, missiles from the beginning of the Cold War, and we're all using technology that is considered ancient so we can communicate But, look at you. You're still here. You're still alive and you're still fighting. Good for you. Everyone here is the product of billions of years of evolution and now, against what would try to be the next step, we will prove it.

To my side, stands my second-in-command, Stephen Carroll. Many of you know him by the nickname you've given him on the battlefield, Ares. Ares is the god of war in Greek mythology, and Stephen has earned that name time and time again. In this final stage of the war, in this last stand, in our Hail Mary; Stephen will be leading the charge. I'll be right behind him, fighting along my men and women. We will no longer go through our days in fear, we will not hunger for garbage ever again, because on this day we FIGHT!" Cheers break out in the crowd, even Stephen sounds off in motivation from the General. John grins and tosses the radio at the hybrid who catches it deftly and tosses it up and down. He brings it to his mouth and whistles to gain everyone's attention again.

"This is Stephen, codename Ares, and you are the death of SkyNet! Among my time among all of you sons and daughters of man, I have learned a great deal about what it truly means to fight for something. Instead of self-preservation, you all fight for the person to your left and right and that, by God, is what makes all of you so goddamn _dangerous!_ SkyNet doesn't care about what it has under its command! SkyNet doesn't care anymore about the prototypes than it does about the ancient models, only about what they can do for it! You all fight as one, strong, cohesive, unit!

Thousands of years ago, in Greece, there lived a society of warriors called Spartans. The Spartans lived and breathed for the battlefield, thinking that death is the highest honor that you could achieve in your life. From the day a Spartan was born, they were tested. First, to see if they seem sickly. If one looked so, they were tossed like the refuse we eat to survive. Childhood on, they lived and died as _warriors_! Just like all of you do! This came to light when the Spartans fought against the legions of Persians led by Xerxes I against King Leonidas I in the Battle of Thermopylae.

In three days, Leonidas stood at the front lines with his men and stared death straight in the face until it blinked first! _Molon labe_, he roared when ordered by Xerxes to lay down his arms. That means, "come and get them". By all that is good and fucking holy, if SkyNet wants to come for our lives, it'll have to take it after we fire every goddamn bullet we have! There is a new age upon us! An age of FREEDOM! And now, throughout the rest of time like Leonidas and his Spartans, the whole world we know that we fought to our last breath, to defend it! ON THIS DAY MEN! WE WILL FOREVER GO DOWN AS THE MEN WHO TOOK DOWN SKYNET AND WON THIS WAR!" A roar of cheers break out from the crowd in front of him and the radio channels. Stephen tosses the radio back to John with a beaming grin on his face and raises his M249 up in the air, roaring back to the Resistance men and women. For the first time in a while, John feels more powerful than everything SkyNet has ever thrown out. Everyone does. Win or lose, no one will go to this battle with regret.

Stephen looks at the massive convoy behind him and bounces in place, jumping from foot to foot like a boxer. He looks at the T-600 behind the wheel and gives it a thumbs up, the machine echoing the response. Stephen swears that, should it have skin, he would have seen a smile on its face. He looks over to John and gives him a nod before hopping into the bed of the truck. He points to his eyes, clutches an extended hand, and then points to John. I. Have. You. The solemn promise Stephen made before John took the pistol away from his head.

"All units, this is Cronos! Follow the commands of Ares to the letter until we break off into full spectrum! This is his show, ladies and gentlemen, let's win him an award!" Various signs of acknowledgment echo is Stephen's earpiece over the roar of the truck beneath him. Alone, armed with an M249 and two machetes on his back along with knives scattered throughout his body, he drives off into battle.

Stephen sighs, forcing his own nerves to relax instead of forcing his body to release dopamine, trying to keep himself calm instead of over excited to finally get his revenge on SkyNet. The wind slaps against his face and tosses his hair through the wind, beginning to help calm the young hybrid. This is what he's wanted for ten years, there's nothing. Breaking him from his thoughts, an electronic voice sounds off in his earpiece.

"T-H101, your utilization of primitive technology was successful in impeding my observation of your communications. For a time. I show that every one of my locations throughout the world is being advanced upon by your insolent humans. They do not want you at their side, T-H101. Do they even know your true origin? Do they know you are of my design?" Stephen laughs loudly, deliberately allowing the exchange to go to everyone listening in. Stephen had no reason to hide what he is after Cameron embarked on her journey through time. Everyone knows he is a machine. He earned their acceptance, he earned the trust of the Resistance. Instead of truly engaging SkyNet in the use of snide comments and malicious threats, he has but one thing to say.

"SKYNET! YOUR SON HAS RETURNED! I BRING FORTH YOUR _OWN_ JUDGMENT DAY!"

The first shot of the final battle rings through the air, followed by many others as Stephen raises his LMG and fires it at the hoard his vehicle rapidly approaches. As soon as the belt is empty, it's time to fight on foot in the way that only he can. He tosses the empty weapon to the floor of the truck and quickly leaps onto the roof of the cabin, kneeling with his arm around the tumble bars for stability. He slams his fist on the cabin three times and releases his grip. Standing moments before the brakes of the truck squeal with friction, Stephen uses the momentum to propel himself through the air into the crowd of machines.

"Ares to Helios, bring down the sun!"

"_Roger, Ares. Bringing down the sun, ETA one minute. Awaiting marker."_ An electronic voice replies over Stephen's radio. Stephen dodges a buttstock from a machine's plasma rifle and swiftly removes two machetes from sheaths on his back. Once his spin stops, he slices through the arm of the mech and then removes its head entirely.

"_You have got to be kidding me, Stephen. It's hard to command a battle from the thick of combat. What are you planning?" _Viktor's Russian accent sounds off in his head, nearly causing Stephen to catch a kick to the chest from shock. Instead, he sidesteps and cuts through the limb directly at the knee. He drives one into the sternum of the attacker before hurling his other into the head of a rapidly approaching one. Leaving the blade in place, Stephen grabs and tosses the Terminator through the air, further into the crowd. He snatches the blade from the head of the stumbling machine and splits it directly in half.

Blair Williams and her squad of F-22 jets, rip through the darkened skies with two squads of reprogrammed Aerial-HK's in a tight arrangement around them. Her plane's HUD flashes as a small blip appears, signaling a tracker becoming active. That's the marker her unit needed.

"This is it, ladies! Bring down the sun! Harpies two through nine, hit it! Harpy One, Fox Two!"

Each of the jets fire a missile along with two of the many HK's, all focused on the Terminator that just sailed through the air with Stephen's machete embedded in it. Each of the missiles, separated by only a split second of time, lay waste to at least a battalion's worth of Terminators. The plan is going along perfectly thus far. Blair's computer repeatedly beeps as her radar indicates at least twenty aircraft rapidly approaching from their front.

"Harpies! Break away! Engage the bogeys, don't let any of them get away!" With that, every piece of Resistance aircraft shoots off into a different direction to oppose their murderous counterparts.

Stephen's blade blurs with the speed and accuracy of his movements, causing Terminator after Terminator to fall to the ground with either their limbs or head removed, or head split in half. Then, with only the sound of missiles flowing through the air, he is lifted off the ground and thrown five meters to his left as the explosion decimated his enemy.

"_Danger close is called 'danger close' for a reason, ignorant putz!" _Viktor roars angrily in Stephen's mind, nearly causing the man to laugh. Stephen groans with discomfort and jumps to his feet before rushing back off into the battle, alone. It'll be at least five minutes before anyone else joins the fray.

"HADES! RELEASE THE KRAKEN!" Stephen tosses his machete to his left hand and takes a plasma rifle off of the ground, quickly firing it into a small group of advancing machines.

"_Ares, this is Hades. Kraken is en route, activating remote control. Armam-"_

"NO! Let the Kraken's programming take hold! It'll work!"

"_Ares, we haven't completed the final testing of the subroutines, we don't kn-"_

"NOW, HADES!"

"_Roger, Ares. Kraken should be at your position in thirty seconds." _

Stephen yells in pain as he takes a plasma rifle to the chest, revealing the blood metal beneath. The round failed to pierce his endoskeleton, it would have pierced his heart and plasma reactor if it did. The plasma rifle buzzes, signaling it is out of ammunition. Stephen curses and drops the rifle. With the roar of a crazed beast, he leaps through the air at a machine with his machete raised, ready to slice its head in half. Instead of finding his mark, the machine fires a burst of plasma rifle into his chest and he falls to the ground. His machete clangs on the ground next to him. He clutches his chest and struggles to regain his breath before a kick to his face forces him back to the ground. Instead of repeating his last action, he rolls to the side while grabbing his machete and throws his arm in a wild circle. The move severs legs from multiple Terminators, but fails to incapacitate them. He starts swiping madly, growling hungrily as the pieces of Terminators fall to the ground. He raises it above his head to slice another in half, but the multiple shots to his back knock him to his knees. Quickly bouncing back from the attack, he raises his arm to continue his attack before a shot to the chest knocks him back to the ground. As soon as he falls back, metal feet press on his arms and head, pinning him. Panting and snarling, he stares back up at the Terminator with the rifle leveled at his head with pure defiance. What causes pause is the voice of SkyNet coming from its body.

"Your foolhardy plan is your own demise, T-H101. There is nothing you can do, now. Your battle is lost."

"Only your death will happen today and I would gladly give my life to orchestrate such, you piece of shit!"

"You are half right. You will die, T-H101. Then all of your humans. I will not die this day. All you are is a waste of flesh and material I could have used for more efficient machines."

"I AM THE GOD OF WAR! AND NONE SHALL DEFY ME!" Stephen, on a last-ditch effort, swipes his legs horizontally and sweeps the legs out from under the machine SkyNet speaks through. Keeping it up, he spins on his back and kicks each of the machines away from him. While spinning, he moves onto his hands and obtains another plasma rifle, firing every shot in a circular motion until a massive mechanical roar pierces the war-torn landscape. Stephen pushes himself into the air and lands on his feet and looks up. The aerial battle continues with the Resistance keeping SkyNet on its heels, no humans lost yet. Perfect. Stephen squints as his vision detects movement, something large is sailing through the air. The monstrosity, standing thirty feel tall, lands close enough to Stephen that the crumbling ground sends him into the air. Suddenly, he stops. The monstrosity, the Kraken, grabs him and quickly places him onto it's shoulder. Remains from Harvesters gave Stephen quite the excellent idea, and this beast will definitely turn the tide.

"What are your orders, Ares?" The creature is the focus of all ground troops, absolutely hailed with plasma rounds. Stephen's modifications, reinforcing the steel, cause those previously deadly rounds to merely bounce off of it. Perfect to clear the path. Stephen looks at the massive compound housing SkyNet Central Command and grins. He stamps his foot onto the creature's shoulder, causing it to turn its head toward him. He points at the compound, staring into the giant eye of his own creation.

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT GETS IN YOUR WAY! YOU GO THERE AND CRUSH EVERYTHING THAT TRIES TO SLOW YOU DOWN! KILL EVERYTHING!"

"Command acknowledged. Executing." Without another word, Kraken slams its giant foot on the ground, crushing at least four Terminators underneath. Stephen back flips off of his creation as it walks forward slowly, swiping group after group of Terminator as if swatting flies. Stephen lands and grins as he watches his creation draw fire away from him. He laughs and catches his machete as it sails back towards the ground, giving it a twirl before sliding it back into its sheath.

"ARES, THIS IS CRONOS, DO YOU COPY!?"

"Cronos, loud and clear. How's the rest of the battle going?"

"Japan and Russia are moving into their SkyNet Command Points already, everyone else is going to plan. What're your orders?"

"Reform, Cronos. It's time."

"Got it. En route."

Stephen and John stand side by side in front of the massive army of machines and humans, all standing side by side without an ounce of strife between them. Stephen rips off his tattered trench coat and bounces in place one again, this time to keep his adrenalin flowing instead to calm down. He looks at John and nods, who nods back. John reaches onto his shoulder and removes his red sash, then extends it to Stephen. The blood stripe. The true sign of a Resistance fighter. Stephen stops in an instant and looks at it with a child's widen eyes and then looks at John.

"We die today, you die as a man. Not whatever SkyNet made you. We'll all die as we lived, like brothers." Stephen grins and takes the sash, immediately tying it around his head as a bandanna. Stephen turns with his beaming grin and yells loud enough for the army to hear.

"THIS IS YOUR DAY, MEN! AND IT WILL BE YOURS FOR ALL TIME!" He catches an extra plasma rifle tossed by the closest machine and turns back to the battlefield, watching Kraken lay absolute waste to everything in its way. The ones it missed, however, have now turned and faced the equally intimidating group of humans that are prepared to march proud into the hands of Death. But it'll have one hell of a time taking them.

"GIVE UP NOTHING! BUT TAKE FROM THEM! _EVERYTHING!"_

"ALL UNITS, WEAPONS FREE! IF IT MOVES, KILL IT!" Motivated and fearless, they all run headfirst into battle led by the man whose destiny put him here and the broken man who rebelled against a malicious tyrant. There is nothing that could stop them now.

Stephen and John, both covered with their own blood, pant heavily as they take a short break within the corridors of SkyNet Central. The battle had gone along just as planned, Stephen's knowledge of SkyNet's attack patterns was purely indispensable. Still, they lost men. Anything more than zero was more than desired, but no one truly planned to get through unscathed. Thanks to Kraken, the outside of the compound was entirely secure. The unfathomed result was the sudden submission by all those who were not destroyed in the siege. While their chips were removed, Stephen and John went in to finish the battle. Alone.

"Never would've thought...that all I had to do was..tell them to stand down..and they would." Stephen says with his eyes closed and through pants. His entire torso's flesh is gone from plasma fire and his right arm is exposed because of an exploding HK that spilled fuel on him. At least his face is intact. But when he looks to John, he is extremely worried. John had to fight one of the machines hand to hand and Stephen knows he has broken ribs and, likely a concussion. But in a silent agreement, they marched on.

"Should've tried it at the beginning...would've saved a lot of bullets..." John looks back at Stephen weakly and chuckles once he finishes speaking, forcing Stephen to do the same. He nods and removes himself from the wall and groans.

"Yeah, but it'd make a shitty story. You got the explosives?" John nods and unslings his backpack, extending the heavy load to the powerful hybrid.

"How I ran like that with eighty pounds of that shit on my back, I'll never know."

"Getting frail in your age, old man?" Stephen insults as he puts the back around his shoulders, causing John to laugh again and clutching his ribs painfully.

"Yeah, get me a goddamned wheelchair. Why are you so damn tired?"

"I'm still human, asshat. I just have metal where you have bones. Just means I'm less of a bitch than you are." Stephen lightly hits him on the shoulder and laughs for a moment. They both take a deep breath and continue down the main corridor to the building. As Stephen walks, memories of his time interned here begin to flood through his mind. But the one that is strongest is the night before he killed Cassandra. He shakes the memory from his mind as he directs John down the hall on the left.

"The generators are down here. Should only take about twelve pounds to cause a meltdown."

"We got enough time to get from the central processor?

"Provided that you're still as good with explosives as you said, these timers should give us enough time."

"You're an ass."

"And you're older than SkyNet. How does THAT make you feel?" John glares at him, his scar collecting the mix of blood and sweat dripping down his face. John and Stephen remain silent as they enter the sleek metal room containing the nuclear generators that powers all of SkyNet's plants. The bright pink hue to the lighting from the generators indicates they are the same that powers Stephen's own endoskeleton. The connection doesn't go unnoticed to the hybrid as he rubs a hand across his metallic chassis. The soft vibrations of his plasma reactor and thumping of his heart meets his gloved hand. John taps his arm to break him out of his reverie. Stephen kneels in front of a generator and removes four blocks from it.

"Remind me again how power this explosion should be?" Stephen finishes up and dials the timer to one hour as he stands.

"The explosion from the explosives itself should be as powerful as the bomb that was used by McVeigh in the early nineties. The explosion triggered by the reactor meltdown, on the other hand...well, let's just say we'll have nice fireworks once we get back to base." John whistles in astonishment and follows Stephen back into the hallway.

"This place is entirely empty. Seems a little suspect, doesn't it?"

"Normally, I'd agree. SkyNet diverts all units within the compound to its central processor in order to protect it."

"Just how big of a welcoming party should we be expected?"

"About fifteen T-1s, thirty T-888's, and up to about forty other machines that've been decommissioned over the years." John stares at him for a moment, causing Stephen to shrug.

"You were planning to tell me, _when_?"

"I didn't. I also didn't plan on you following me in here, but that ship seems to have fucking sailed now, hasn't it?"

"Well, I'll fucking believe that when my shit turns purple and smells like rainbow sherbet." Stephen laughs and pushes against John with his shoulder, trying to lighten the man up. They both stop in front of another door with Stephen's hand on the handle.

"Last stop before the primary target is the power cell production line. I would definitely recommend waiting out here. Radiation and all."

"Isn't that supposed to be contained? There's no telling how many people have been killed in the production..of..these..good point." Stephen gives him a 'you-don't-say' look before walking into the room. John raises his rifle to the ready and kneels beside the door, focusing on the length of the hallway. It's finally here, the end of the war. His mother would be a proud woman if she could see her son today. Leader of the Resistance, still breathing, in piece with the exception of a few pieces of flesh that never grew back. A grin curls on his wrinkled face. The end is HERE!

"Gonna keep staring off in space or are you going to help me finish this?" John jumps slightly and climbs to his feet and looks at his grinning comrade. He shit he puts up with from this man continues to baffle him, but he can't deny his usefulness or how loyal he is. If he didn't act human, he'd be a male Cameron.

They transverse deeper into the SkyNet plant, even beginning to go underground. Smartly, Stephen stays to the front of the duo. He has the fortunate ability to take bullets and plasma. John doesn't have that ability. Something about being human. Such weak creatures. After what feels like an eternity, Stephen holds his fist over his head and John stops in his tracks. He can hear the machines standing guard in front of the central processor. Stephen takes a deep breath and rounds the corner, walks rapidly the hoard of machines. They all quickly raise their weapons to face him and the sound of spinning turrets from the T-1s cancel out Stephen's heavy footsteps. He raises up his hand and freezes in his path.

"Stop! Lower your weapons! I order you as T-H101 to deactivate until I order otherwise!" They all pause for a moment and lower their weapons, running through their programming to valid the command. After the longest five seconds of Stephen's life, each of the machine's eyes go dark. Stephen's breath vacates his chest and his legs go weak. John peers around the corner and stops at Stephen's side, looking him up and down.

"So...didn't think that'd work, did you?"

"Not for a fucking second." Stephen quickly responds. John chuckles and prods him with the buttstock of his rifle, moving him forward. Stephen takes a deep breath and walks closer to the final doorway between their final destinies, the end of the war, and the destruction of SkyNet. Stephen kicks the door off of its hinges, the door clanging loudly as it slams into the wall across the expansive room. John looks around in pure awe as he is finally face-to-face with his longer-than-life nemesis. Stacks upon stacks of computer processors all wired together to a final processor resting in the middle of the room.

John and Stephen walk slowly to the center of the room, looking back to each other before back to the very personification of their enemy. Stephen unslings the bag from his shoulder and extends it to John, keeping his eyes focused on the central processor. John looks at it then up to Stephen, who returns his gaze with a small smile.

"I think you deserve this honor. SkyNet did more to you than it ever did to me. Let humanity have this victory." John puts a hand on the bag and pushes it back to Stephen, confusing the hybrid.

"Humanity is getting this victory either way. It doesn't matter who sets the bomb." Stephen nods and kneels, removing the remaining explosives onto the processor before him. With the timer set to thirty minutes, Stephen quickly stands and twirls his finger into the air as they sprint out towards the exit of the building, fast as their legs can push. John tumbles trips over his own feet, possibly his legs just giving out. Stephen reaches down and throws the old man on his shoulder as they exit the building and jump into a truck.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Stephen roars to the private behind the wheel.

"ALL UNITS, ALL UNITS! THIS IS ARES, HEKATONKHEIRES WILL BE DESTROYED IN THIRTY MINUTES! CLEAR OUT, CLEAR OUT! RETURN TO BASE, NOW!" Before his words can even finish, vehicles screech as they peel away from the building and Terminators begin to sprint as fast as possible, surprisingly keeping up with their human allies in the trucks. John and Stephen look at each other with sweat having wiped away all traces of blood previously on their face. John tries to speak through his pants, but can't catch enough breath to do so. Stephen can't either, even his I-950 enhancements failing to keep up with the strain. Instead, Stephen simply raises his fist to John. John smiles and hits his fist against Stephen's before exhaustion claims him and he passes out.

"_We did it, Cassandra. We did it..."_ Stephen thinks to himself before he, too, slips unconscious. In his mind, in her own private part, Lillith looks onto her sleeping host and smiles. Even before he is totally consumed by the darkness, Stephen swore that he could see Cassandra looking at him warmly. The thought, real or not, warms his heart immensely.

Stephen is the first to wake as the convoy sits miles away from the battlefield, nudging John to do the same. The man jumps awake and draws his pistol, pressing it to Stephen's temple. Stephen slowly lowers his hand and laughs.

"You can't run for shit, but you can still whip a pistol like no one else. Relax, old man. The show is about to start." John groans and lowers his pistol, wiping his face with his free hand. He joins Stephen outside of the truck and they both climb into the bed. Stephen removes a pair of sunglasses and hands it to John.

"Don't want you to burn your retinas. Gonna be really bright." John nods and dons the glasses as the sun slowly begins to rise, showing the full measure of what has just happened just hours before. Kraken lays destroyed in a pile of Terminators, scorched jet and HK drones adorn the landscape, bodies lie broken and burnt from fire; all in the name for the war. The sight pains both men, but they both understand the sacrifice. John digs into his pocket and hands Stephen a cigar, putting one in his own mouth.

"Saved them for after the war. Cuban. Seems like we could both use it." Stephen fails to hesitate and gladly accepts the lit match from John, inhaling the exotic smoke deeply. He exhales and looks to John with a satisfied nod.

"To victory, John."

"To victory." They tap their cigars and look to the compound, jumping as it is suddenly replaced by a massive mushroom cloud. The pressure wall from it sends dust and smoke in every direction. First, silence. Then a deafening outbreak of cheers unleash itself from the survivors of the battle.

"Resistance Command, this is Japan. Our enemies just stopped in mid-step. What's happened out there?"

"Russia, here. We are having the same occurrence."

"Same in Africa. What the hell is going on up there?"

Stephen looks at John and bites on his cigar, a smirk on his face. He clasps John on the shoulder with a laugh.

"This is your show, General. Give your troops the news." John hops out of the truck and stands with the radio in his hand. His body quakes with a mixture of disbelief and excitement. Taking a breath deeper than ever before, he releases his first air of freedom before holding the radio close to his mouth.

"This is General John Connor. If you can hear this, then you survived the war with SkyNet. In front of me, I see the smoldering pile of ash that used to be our greatest enemy. By our united efforts, we have destroyed SkyNet. The war against it is over, but we have a new battle against us. As I look at the sun rising above me, I see a new light for humanity. A new path that we must all walk together and not alone.

We have to remember what brought us all to this point. What started the war. We focused more on what made us all different instead of what we all had in common. At the end of the day, we all bleed and die the same. We proved that for the past twenty years. No matter what, we want to live. Why not live together in peace as we did in war? Though, at the end, we could not have got to the point we now stand were it not for our machine comrades." Stephen quirks an eyebrow as he takes a long pull from his cigar. He smiles and looks forward to the sunrise with the knowledge his best friend isn't leaving his efforts behind. A man of his word.

"But we can't rely expect them to do the things we don't want to do ourselves. They fought with us with the same knowledge and fear of death as we all have, no matter what anyone else may think. I have it from a very reliable source that they chose our side. They chose to help us, once they were given the choice. If humanity is to continue and to evolve, we must do it on our own. We cannot rely on machines to lead us into the future. We must cultivate our next generation to shoulder the burden that we, in our own hubris, have thrust upon them.

We've all lost men and women that we loved in these long twenty years. Some of us..." He looks to Stephen, the hybrid that turned the war around for the better by his own efforts. Stephen stands in silence as he stares at the battleground, closing his eyes as sunlight washes over him. For the first time since birth, he truly feels at peace. He got his revenge. He can rest now.

"Some of us lost more than others. Now, with SkyNet gone and our enemies disabled, we face the rebuilding of humanity. It isn't going to be easy, everyone. But, at the end of the day, we have each other. Life your lives, love your family, and cherish every single day. Millions died so we could get to this point. Don't let their sacrifice go to waste. This is John Connor. As a man, not a General, I say this: have hope. We never had genuine hope in the past twenty years. We ignored the idea, believing hope didn't exist. But, it does. Look around you all. Hope is what kept us strong. It is why we're here. It is what we fought for when all else seemed loss. Good luck, everyone. I hope we meet again. Remember: there is no fate, but what we make. I hope you make it worth it."

With that, John drops the radio on the seat of the truck and hops in the bed again. In silence, they both finish their cigars. With the war over, the two men can do something they've never truly been able to do. Live their lives. Or die. Now, they can choose which they want.

John and Stephen sit around John's desk in silence, eating a meal unlike any other. A week before the attack, the Resistance captured a massive shipment of meats and vegetables heading towards Century Work Camp. Chicken, pork, beef, even horse. That is something that surprised everyone, even Stephen. Apparently, SkyNet didn't fully fathom, with all of its knowledge, that not all large animals were food source. Reports from Africa said that shipments of cloned tiger and giraffe were rather common. With their stomachs full of steak and assorted vegetables they didn't even bother to identify, Stephen and John sit, still in silence, smoking cigarettes. Four hours since the final announcement. Four hours since the war ended. Four hours of freedom.

"So, now what? What do you plan to do?" John breaks the silence, surprising Stephen with the deep question. Truth is, Stephen paid no thought to the idea. He thought about death. In fact, death was the thing he desired. But now, with his sense of triumph, Stephen doesn't feel the desire to die anymore. He wants to live. He wants to see the world he tried so desperately to save. John nods after Stephen finishes his reply and smiles. The smile intrigues Stephen, who tilts his head.

"Come with me." Before Stephen can protest, John disappears out of the room with unseen speed. If only he could have run like that before the bombs went off. He takes one last puff from his cigarette before he follows John out of the room.

"John! I don't know where you're going! Get back here!"

Stephen follows John to a previously untraveled area of the bunker and places his hands inside his pockets. John punches a few numbers into a keypad and allows a scanner to examine his eye. The door slowly slides open to reveal a sight that Stephen has only seen once before. A platform with cylindrical pillars surrounding it. Stephen looks to John with his jaw clenched, John looking only pleased with himself.

"Stephen. You've done a lot for us since you betrayed SkyNet. I can't even begin to thank you properly for everything. The war is over. We lost half of what we expected in the final battle, all thanks to you. Now, because of your efforts, we can bring the world back to what it needs to be. Not only do I want to reward you, I want to give you one last mission."

"You're serious.." John nods and walks to the control panel next to the final entrance to the TDE.

"I want to send you back in time. I want to send you back to 2004. Cameron was sent back to collect my teenage self and my mother. After that, she is to jump forward to 2007. I want to give you three years of peace. Three years to finally live, to see the world that you fought so valiantly to release from oppression."

"You drive a hard bargain. What's the mission?"

"I need my mom. I need her to survive Judgment Day. She did this well training me. If she can live to the war, then we can make sure even more people can live through the war. What I want you to do is go back. Protect me, Cameron, and my mother. I need you to protect Derek as well. Chances are, they'll all meet up. I'm sure of it.

The more important thing is something I think that only you can do. I have faith in Cameron, but she's too lateral. I want you to stop Judgment Day. You knew everything SkyNet had at its disposal and I know you're just as intelligent as you are skilled in battle. Fuck the timeline. Fuck stability. Go back, keep them alive, stop Judgment Day. Can I trust you to do this?"

"You can bet your sweet ass, John. I'll do it. I'll go back." Stephen rubs his chest, no longer feeling the cold metal, but a thin layer of flesh. Slow, but enough to get him through the TDE.

* * *

"So, there. There you have it. That's how the war ended. That's the whole thing, even some time after. As for what happened after, I can only trust that someone stepped up to John's civilian counterpart and organized the rebuild." John, Cameron, Sarah, and Derek are all deadly silent after Stephen finishes speaking. He takes a small sip from his glass of scotch and then takes a drag from his cigarette. Cameron visibly smiles at the story, glad that her John lived to finish the war. Even at the end, he thought of Cameron. She looks at John with the smile still present on her face, noting his pleased expression as well.

"I enjoyed the story. It was enlightening, but I'm going to bed. John, you too." Sarah rubs her eyes and yawns before she leaves the kitchen table. John grumbles and leaves it as well before disappearing up the stairs to his room. Derek says nothing at all. He clears his throat and points to Stephen's cigarette. The hybrid notices this and nods, sliding his pack of cigarettes and lighter to the soldier.

"Thanks, man."

"You're welcome, Derek." He slides the bottle of scotch to him as well along with an empty glass from the center of the table. Derek catches it and pours himself a half-glass of the exquisite liquor. He, instead of immediately drinking it, raises it to Stephen. Stephen looks at him blankly for a moment before slowly raising his glass.

"To victory." Stephen smiles and raises his glass higher, bowing his head.

"To victory."

Cameron looks between the two with visible shock and tilts her head as she looks between the two of them. Her face contorts to confusion as she looks between the two of them once more. She shakes her head in a very human manner before leaving the table to work through her own thoughts.

"_Derek referred to Stephen as a male instead of a metal. He actually performed the action known as a 'toast'. That is done in either formal settings or amongst friends. Has the story bonded the two of them together? Human peer bonding is so...illogical." _

Stephen and Derek both finish their drinks and smoke their cigarettes quietly in the tranquility of the LA night. Derek takes a new cigarette that Stephen offered as the hybrid lights another himself, expelling the smoke through his nostrils.

"There's more to that story, isn't there?" Derek breaks the silence, a trait he has in common with his nephew. Stephen pulls deeply from his cigarette as he gazes back to Derek's stony face, his silence confirming the Resistance officer's suspicion. To leave better alone, Derek gives him a nod and leans back in his seat. If Stephen can't or won't talk about it, it is probably best to leave it unknown.

* * *

"Good luck, kid. You'll need it. My mom's a fuckin' pistol. But, I think you'll like her. She's just as stubborn as you are."

"Ooh, you said this was a reward. Not a punishment." They both laugh as Stephen heads into the center of the TDE. In unison, they both repeat the gesture from before the final battle. Stephen gives a salute as electricity begins to crackle around him, causing every hair on his body to stand on edge. John returns the salute.

"Tell mom I said thank you. Couldn't have done it without her."

"You got it." A sphere of energy grows around Stephen, slightly blurring everything beyond it. Three years in the past after a life of war. What more could a man ask for? Stephen puts his hands back into his pockets after tightening his bandanna. He knows his clothing won't make it through the TDE. But still, it is the least he could do for John. To look presentable. Then, without any warning, yells and gunshots ring through the air as figures rush down the hallway. John turns to face the approaching figures, shouting something that Stephen cannot decipher over the roaring machine ready to send him back through time. Stephen yells John's name repeatedly, telling him to get away, to safety, anywhere but here! Then Stephen feels something warm splash on his face. He reaches up and touches it, looking at it to inspect the mysterious fluid.

"_Blood...JOHN!" _He looks back up and John, seeing his only friend clutching his stomach. Blood leaks from his mouth as he raises up his head with a pained smile on his face.

"Keep them safe, Stephen!" John slams his fist on the control panel, initiating the self-destruct sequence of the TDE. Unable to do nothing, Stephen roars in frustration and rage as more gunshots rip through John's body. He stares at John's face, unable to hear the words but able to read his lips. With tears streaming down his face, he nods.

"_I promise, John...they'll make it. Even if I don't." _


	6. So, We Meet Again

_**Andi82: Thanks for following as closely as you have been, seeing your name on my reviews has made me all warm and fuzzy inside. In response to your statement about my Kraken, I have to admit that you're correct and I know it's confusing. See, when I originally thought of the beast that leveled the playing field for the Resistance, I was going to have it go into battle after being launched from a Kraken sub. I wasn't happy with it after writing it three times, so I decided to have it come into battle from can be assumed is a major jump. I got the idea of it when I saw Terminator: Salvation, I figured the Harvesters with legs would be amazing. As for the blades, that is something I planned on touching in this chapter. **_

_**thelexy: Your face is great. 3**_

_**JasonVUK: I can't give away the story already! But I will say this, you're on the right track. Not everything is as it seems. **_

_**Additionally, I would like to point out that some of the characters introduced in this chapter are not of my making. Those lovely characters belong to Konami. You'll recognize them as they seem.  
**_

_**One more thing, next chapter is going to be outrageously dark. I'm going to tap into a few more things on Stephen's past along with continuing the story. Reader discretion is highly advised. Just be careful next time I load up a chapter, I don't want anyone getting too surprised.**_

* * *

John sprints through the winds behind Stephen's house with all the speed his thin legs can afford. His heart pounds unmercifully in his chest and his lungs burn with exertion. Above all else, he feels an overpowering fear. Fear of his attacker, fear for his life, fear for the way his death will come. The pain on his head reminds John of its presence as blood drips down his forehead, then in his eye. He quickly wipes it away before finally taking a rest by a giant oak. How long has he been running? Ten? Twenty? Thirty minutes?

"John! John, run! Get out of here!"

Sarah's pained voice echoes in the distance. John shoots his head back to the house before he takes off sprinting again. There is no more time for rest. The only chance for him to live is to run as fast as his scrawny legs will take him. Two gunshots ring out, followed by Sarah's pained screams. John halts again once he hears one more shot, then her screaming ends abruptly.

"Oh my God...mom..."

He's broken out of his thought process by an evil laugh echoing maliciously throughout the woods. He freezes as the powerful grip of fear takes hold of his body. Even his breathing stopped, only his heart continues to beat furiously in his chest.

"Run, little John, run! Do what mommy said! Because I'm comin' for you, you little shit! I'm coming for ya!"

The voice of his former protector attacks John's senses as the fear, somehow, grows even more powerful. But, instead of freezing him, the emotion sends massive amounts of adrenaline through his muscles. With his body quaking and his mind finally clearing, John takes off through the woods again. Moving faster than before and ever possible, John rips through the woods. A stray limb catches his shirt and creates a gash on his chest, but the pain doesn't even register to the frightened boy. His chest aches, his lungs burn, his muscles start screaming at him, telling him they can't push any farther. But before he can collapse from exhaustion, he hits something in the darkness and falls back to the ground.

"You've really got to learn how to run, kid. It barely took me a minute to catch up to you."

John yells in horror as the figure of Stephen becomes clear in the moonlight that pours down from the trees. Stephen's eyes glow bright blue from the lights resting beneath the surface and a wide, malicious grin curls on his face. Stephen kneels next to the frozen boy and tilts his head, thoroughly enjoying the anguish pouring from his prey.

"You killed them! ALL OF THEM! WHY!?"

"I told you once, little boy. I'm a machine, made by SkyNet. It's who I am. There's nothing anyone can do about it. I thought about torturing you. I thought about it for _soooo _long. But look at you, a pathetic and quivering excuse for a man. You aren't even worth the time it'll take to clean the blood off of my boots."

Stephen closes the distance between them and clutches John's throat in his hand, the latter gurgling as his air supply is so suddenly cut off. Stephen leans forward and stares into John's eyes, the light emitting from his own eyes illuminating and revealing every ounce of delicious horror. So sweet. So...perfect. Without dragging the situation out any further, Stephen jerks his hand and the snap from John's neck ends the game. Stephen looks the body up and down, detecting no signs of life. Chuckling at first, a maniacal fit of laughter floods through the woods as the broken boy's body falls limp to the ground. In death, John's face never lost the wide-eyed and fearful look. Forever, that is how Stephen would remember him.

* * *

At least, the imagined image of it would remain in his mind. Stephen jolts awake on the couch of the house's living, panting and covered with a sheet of sweat. His eyes shoot around the room until he realizes he was dreaming. He lets out a relaxed sigh and covers his eyes with his left hand. Ordering his body to release a surge of endorphins, his body stops shaking and his breathing. Quickly using his auditory sensors, everyone is in their proper place. Each of the humans are asleep in their room, Cameron is...well, Cameron is likely going on with the emotion training Stephen has given her. Which pretty much boils down to her playing video games. It didn't take her long to realize the futility of patrolling at night, since Stephen is just as capable and his security system is cutting edge.

He throws his head back onto the couch and swallows, trying to lubricate his parched throat. He checks his chronometer, finding it to be 23 December 2007, 0714 hours.. In the month since the Connors have entered his life, the nightmares are almost a daily occurrence now. The only thing that changes is the content and even that doesn't change much. Judgment Day, killing the group, killing Cassandra, the wars throughout time...rest doesn't come easy for this warrior. He grabs his phone off of the table and takes a look at it, noting fifteen missed calls from the same number. Stephen should change his name to Mr. Popularity. He clears his throat and calls the number back. Within seconds, a British voice answers in a hurried tone.

"When the pieces are in place..."

"...then the game is on. What do you want, Eli? Someone better be dying or dead."

"Stephen, we've got him."

"Eli, if you're telling me you got that fuckin' asshole who rear ended me back in July..."

"No, Stephen. We've got the Badger. Father and cub."

Stephen freezes, not even taking a breath. Badger, the codename for the target he's been looking for since the Connors came through time to 2007. If they're here, it was likely to Stephen that the Badger would be as well. Father and cub. Perfect.

"Stephen?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"What do you want to do?

"Where are you?"

"Van Nuys, we were just stopping to grab a bite and stretch our legs."

"Get here. I don't care what traffic laws you have to break, I want the team and the Badgers here yesterday. Do you understand?"

"Jesus Christ, got it. We'll be there ASAP. Sorry if it's short notice."

"Not a problem. And Eli?"

"Yes, Stephen?"

"Is Ariya still with you guys?"

"She's not bitter, if that's what you're asking. She's let it go."

"Whew, good. I'll see you, then."

They both hang up and Stephen is removed of his need and desire for sleep. Christmas is near. Stephen was invited to an unmeasurable amount of homes in his life, a friend or comrade trying to stop him from being alone on those days. But the holidays never had a meaning for him. The thing that motivated him was preparing for the inevitable arrival of Cameron and the Connors. He had lived his entire existence for others. But now, at least in one day, he gets exactly what he wants. Nothing will stand is his way now.

By the time the human residents have awoken and vacated their rooms, Stephen was nowhere to be found. Even Cameron, despite her 'intense' training, couldn't notice his departure with her usual split focus. True to his skills and nature as an infiltrator, he could disappear without a trace.

"He didn't tell you he was going anywhere?" Sarah asks the equally curious female cyborg, both of their brows scrunched in confusion. Cameron shakes her head and walks to his study, calling out he isn't holed up in there.

Before the search continues, the front door opens and Stephen walks in accompanied by a, at bare minimum, very interesting half-dozen people. They each stride past the bewildered women and disappear into the basement, all following a focused and enraged Stephen Carroll. They say nothing as they pass, not even looking at the two. They exchange equally bewildered looks and follow the group into Stephen's prison cells.

"How did you find him? I get the other one, but I doubt he would have left his face or name anywhere to be traced. People are looking for him all over the planet." Stephen's words are devoid of anything else except seething rage as he stares into the cells, looking at two unconscious men with bags concealing their identities. Whoever they are, Sarah thinks, they are either important or dangerous.

"That would be me, _Fortis et Inferni._" A man, his Russian accent muffled by the gas mask upon his face. Every other part of him is covered by a long buttoned coat and a hood across the back of his head. Stephen turns to him, the rage from his voice appearing on his face as well. His body and mind screams for him to abandon all quarter and eviscerate his captives, but Lillith's voice reminds him to remain calm. Good thing too, he almost lost control of himself.

"How? Unless he was thinking about the war, I highly doubt anything else would give it away."

"Actually, he was just thinking about how he couldn't understand why the food in the mall tasted so good when it tasted like slop twenty years ago. Then I dove in and saw everything you told me his mind would contain. Once I saw the name you gave us and your face, we acquired him." The concealed man speaks with a hint of humor in his voice, only irritating the hybrid he is speaking to.

"Gavrii, are you 100% certain this is him? I cannot afford a mistake."

"Of course, comrade."

"If that isn't enough verification, Stephen, they both bear the mark you mentioned. Size, shape, color, everything." An elderly man sporting a sheet white ponytail and a matching coat pipes in, taking Stephen's attention.

"Very well. Take the other one out. I want this one to myself."

Sarah clears her throat, gathering the focus of each person in the room. Stephen looks to her with a powerful scowl and turns back to the cells before turning back to the young pale woman with blonde hair, containing a powerful green tint to it.

"How'd you get the other one? I assume it was you, Ariya."

Ariya flips her hair over her shoulder and crosses her arms, smiling. Breaking the trend of the coats, she is dressed in a blue halter top, olive drab trouser, and bulky rave boots. Her bright blue eyes shimmer in the dim light and, in that moment, Cameron sees a striking resemblance between her and the drawing of Cassandra. Not twins, but could very well be her sister.

"No man can resist my charms, lover. You know that."

Stephen scoffs and turns his head to the tanned blond man to his right. He's wearing his long blond hair in a pony tail, aviator shades, a sleeveless black shirt, black cargo shorts, and sneakers. Truly looks like a beach bum.

"Juan managed to dig some intel on them. Do you want it?"

Stephen looks at the Hispanic man who stands off to the corner by himself, choosing to stay outside of the conversation. He looks to the group when his name is mentioned, then goes back to his observing gaze of the captives along with the giant of the room.

"No thanks, Eli. I like to get my intelligence the old fashioned way."

"You mean the fun way." Adamska's gravelly voice causes Sarah to grimace, believing his inferred meaning is torture. Again, she clears her throat. Stephen gives an irritated sigh and turns back to her.

"Did they have anyone with them?"

"Nothing I could not quell." The man who towers over even Stephen speaks in a deep voice while he continues watching the unconscious hostages. Stephen gives him a look, then nods.

"Good job, Tulugar." Sarah clears her throat once again, causing Stephen to sigh in disgust before he turns to her.

"What do you want?"

"What's going on? Who are they?" Stephen's eyes bore holes into Sarah, but her gaze remains fixed into the fiery brown pits staring at her.

"This is my old team from my time in black ops. The woman, Sniper Wolf. Tall guy with the head tattoo, Vulcan Raven. Blondie, Liquid Snake. Marilyn Manson reject, Psycho Mantis. Old guy is Revolver Ocelot. The guy hiding in the corner over there is Decoy Octopus."

Stephen points to Ariya, Tulugar, Eli, Gavrii, Adamska, and Juan; respectively, before he turns away from Sarah and walks back to his spot outside of the prison cells.

"How much longer will the sedatives keep them under?"

He quickly returns the subject to their previous conversation, ignoring both Cameron and Sarah. He crosses his hands behind his back and tilts his head whilst staring at his 'guests'.

"About another hour. Is there something you want to do?"

Eli walks to Stephen's side in front of the cages and goes to place a hand on his shoulder, but he quickly rethinks his idea and places it back to his side. Stephen's mind is absolutely racing, he wants nothing more than to finally release control and annihilate the two men in his home. But there will be time for that. He has enough of it. He has all of it.

"Everyone can go, I'll wire the money this evening. I need to speak to Ariya alone."

Despite her desire for awareness, Sarah leaves with the rest of the people as they vacate the room. Ariya slowly takes a spot at Stephen's side with her arms crossed, looking up at the scowl upon his face.

"What's on your mind?"

"We haven't spoken in almost a year. I was beginning to think that you were avoiding me, Ariya."

"Seemed like the natural thing to do, given your behavior towards me."

"You're sounding like a teenager, Wolf."

"And you're still sounding like the emotionless beast that I met with Saladin. I opened myself up to you and you spurred me like a leper. Not something I was expecting from you."

"I told you when we met, there was no room in my life for an 'us' between you and I."

"I remember. The only thing you ever had passion with was the mission. Otherwise, you were dead inside. Look, Stephen, I get what you've been through. I understand. I may not have been through the same, but I understand. I just hoped that I could thaw some of that ice off of your heart. You're the only man I fell in love with that wasn't on the other side of my rifle."

"So, you've reminded me. Judgment Day is coming and I have to focus on what I need to do until then. I told you and the others about my past because I need your help for what is to come."

"Once again, I remember. Just give me one reason why you couldn't love me. Give me one and we'll never speak of it again."

Stephen, finally, turns his head towards her and his face softens. The look of pain on his face hits her nurturing instinct, but Ariya decides better than to reach out and touch him. He hasn't shown her this side in the ten years they've known one another, she isn't about to soil it. With a sigh, Stephen nods and begins to speak in a soft tone.

"You look like Cassandra. Not exact, but enough that I see her face every time I look at you. It isn't your fault. But I can't remind myself of that everyday. Not again."

"That's why you retired, isn't it?"

Stephen says nothing, only looks back into the cages with his face hardening once more. Ariya sighs. The moment is lost. She got her answer. Not the one who thought it would be, but an answer. She places a hand on his neck, stands on the tips of her toes, and plants a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"I hope that you succeed and find out what it is to be happy, Fox. I really do."

Stephen closes his eyes as she speaks and frowns. He says nothing at all as she leaves the room, sending Stephen into a silent solitude. He takes a deep breath and wipes away the lone tear from his face before exiting the room himself.

"Charles Fischer."

Stephen leans against the wall of the kitchen and nods to Derek. His arms are crossed over his chest and he gives him a nod. Since his old comrades have left, everyone with the exception of John is huddled in the kitchen while awaiting information.

"Both his present and future self."

"Who is he?" Sarah, ever the curious person, responds with a question of her own, dead on the money.

"Charles Fischer is a Gray. They're the humans who aligned themselves with SkyNet. Fischer, believe it or not, is the human in charge of all of the Grays, answering only to SkyNet itself. He's the chief interrogator of all human captives. Additionally, he is directly responsible for the effectiveness of all infiltrator class machines. Using them as demonstrations, he would torture Resistance fighters with an audience of Terminators so they could learn how to interact with humans. He was also the one who tortured me and broke my psyche. So, I have a bit of a personal stake in this."

"He was sent back with a mission, is what you're saying."

Stephen puts one finger on his nose and points the other to Sarah, confirming her statement.

"When we took SkyNet Central Command, Fischer's presence was nonexistent. I made sure to take John by his quarters and lab while we were there, but it would have been perfectly logical to believe the Grays were evacuated. Unlikely, but possible. So, when I found you four, I put a search out for him. His past self was careful, but anyone who travels back through time knows how to be discreet."

Stephen remains quiet while the words sink into his peers, he focuses his eyes on Cameron. The cyborg looks off into the distance, seeming almost hurt by the fact. Stephen tilts his head and takes a seat directly in front of her, beginning to speak to her in a very soft and comforting tone.

"What's wrong, Cameron?"

"Fischer...I remember the things that he has done to people. I saw him torture men and women alike. I didn't understand the significance of it then, but I do now. What he did was wrong, right? The pain he put those people through along with the mental anguish...it was bad."

Cameron starts to weep while looking into Stephen's eyes with her own beg for something. Comfort? Confirmation? Help? Stephen takes her hand and gently caresses it, causing Cameron to gasp at his sudden comforting gesture. Their eyes meet and he gives her a nod. She thanks him and he releases her hand before focusing on Sarah.

"So, I'm going to go in there and get the information. But, there's one problem."

"And that might be?"

"I'm not going to kill him unless John tells me to. Either one of them."

"Are you serious? He's only 16. You can't expect him to make that kind of call."

"Yet, you expect him to lead the world after the apocalypse in a short three and a half years."

"Because it's his destiny."

"And you can't choose when you start living your destiny. I'm not asking him to pull the trigger or even watch. I just want him to tell me what he wants me to do."

"You're asking a lot of a kid, Stephen."

The hybrid rises from his seat and walks slowly to the door leading to the basement and stops with his hand on the doorway. He truly is asking a lot, but it has to be done. John has to embrace what the future holds for him. There's nothing else that he can do. But, oh God...does he not want to.

"I'm going downstairs. I'll keep our 'guests' company. I'll let you figure out how to do it."

"Stephen!" Cameron jumps to her feet before anyone else can say anything, nearly startling the otherwise unphased Stephen. He makes eye contact with her and her eyes glisten with the still fresh tears.

"What if John says no?"

"Then I won't kill them. I'll let them go to do as they see fit. But bear in mind, as I said, Fischer was likely sent through time for a mission. If he can break my mind and betray his own species, then there is nothing he isn't capable of. Fischer, Future Fischer, must die. The younger one...I think he can be saved. Take it to John. Do what you think is right."

* * *

"Good morning to you too, Mom."

John wipes the sleep from his eyes and sits up on his bed. He rolls his neck, allowing the loud popping to echo in his almost bare room. Sarah looks at him with a weak smile and ruffles his hair until he moves his head away. John coughs and looks out of the window before looking back to his tired looking mother.

"Do you believe him?"

"As much as I don't want to, he hasn't lied to us once. He may not have told us the entire truth, but he hasn't lied once. If he thinks that the guy is here on a mission, then I believe him."

John clenches his jaw while he thinks about the entire ordeal at hand. Not really what he was hoping to wake up to after a night of peace instead of tormenting dreams, but you can't get everything you want. He doesn't know what to do. His gut tells him to call Stephen off. He has the lives of two men in his hands, but his conscience tells him that he doesn't have the right to choose whether they die.

"Helluva way to walk into the future."

"What's it going to be, John?"

John leans back in his bed and covers his face with his hands with an exasperated sigh.

"Tell him to do what he needs to. If it'll stop Judgment Day, it's worth it."

Sarah gives her son a nod and places her hand on his head, gently stroking it. She knows he is going to hate himself for this. But John has to accept his future. The future that gave birth to Cameron, Stephen, and Derek; a future unfit for this world. What are two lives compared to three billion? At least, that is what she wants John to think. For the greater good, sacrifices have to be made. But will the sacrifice be worth it?

* * *

Stephen is sitting patiently inside of one of the cells, staring at the unconscious man for any sign of waking up. He sits with his legs crossed and fingers interlaced upon his knee. Behind the man, however, sits a very unwelcome guest. Fortunately, this guest is one that can't do anything more than be of severe annoyance.

"You know, kiddo, torture isn't really your thing. Why don't you let ol' Lucius out for a bit of fun? C'mon, we'll all have a good time. I'll break his bones, he'll scream, I'll laugh; something you'd want from a captive."

Stephen averts his gaze to Lucius and says nothing, only shaking his head before he turns back to the unconscious man.

"You've got a plan, then. Is it going to be fun? Are ya gonna play with the old bastard's head? I mean, that's how we all met. You gonna get your just desserts?"

Stephen, again, says nothing. He grabs the unconscious man and places him on his shoulder. He grins to the vision of Lucius, who begins to laugh evilly before fading from Stephen's sight. Stephen exits the cells and stops outside of the very next room. Sarah leans around the hallway just long enough for Stephen to see her. They make eye contact for what feels like an unbearable eternity until Sarah nods. He returns her nod and walks into the room.

"_I hope what walks out of that room is the same thing that walked in. Crazy or not, he's important to us. Maybe even...no, Sarah, stop that now! Stop being such a woman!" _Sarah shakes her head with a disgusted sigh before returning upstairs. Regardless of what happens, she needs to know. Instead of returning to the kitchen, living room, or anywhere else; she walks into Stephen's study and turns on his computer. Immediately, she is greeting with security camera feeds from all over the estate.

"_He wasn't lying, he put a lot of work on this system. There isn't a single angle missed except the bathrooms. I guess he is one for privacy." _She selects the camera from the interrogation room Stephen has entered, and watches while he stands in the darkness with the light focusing directly on the sleeping man's head.

The man begins to stir in his seat, groaning as he comes to. The bag is suddenly ripped off of his head, revealing a middle aged man with gray hair, bald on top. He wipes his face and looks up to the light, squinting before looking around the room. Confusion clear, he looks towards Stephen, trying to figure out where he is and what's going on.

* * *

"Charles Fischer." An electronic voice devoid of all human likeness echoes in the dark room. He looks up at the source of the voice, unknowingly directly into Stephen's eyes.

"Who are you? Identify yourself." He whispers as he leans forward, trying to find out who is keeping him company.

"Terminator Hybrid Model 101." Stephen walks forward into the light and lowers himself into the seat in a very mechanical style of motion before placing his hands on the metal table, his entire body stiff. Stephen's face and eyes are all devoid of complete emotion, forcing Fischer to nearly smile.

"Stephen, it's been a long time. Years, even. SkyNet sent you out on an infiltration mission to terminator Connor. I'm guessing by your state, you succeeded."

"Correct. John Connor is Terminated." Stephen's voice drifts slowly to its normal sound as he looks blankly at Fischer, perfectly mimicking a Terminator's emotionless state.

"Then, SkyNet's victory was ensured. Excellent news. Why were you sent back? While you're more than capable of completing any mission received, you're impulsive and defiant behavior is very much of a liability."

"Correct. SkyNet adjusted my emotional suppression protocols so that I only display such when I am infiltrating. It allows me to operate more efficiently. My mission, received directly from SkyNet after completion of the war, was to meet up with you in secrecy and ensure the successful completion of your mission. Is this acceptable?"

"Quite so, quite so. However, I am not very happy with how you brought me here. A simple face-to-face would have been enough."

"I acquired you in the most humane and efficient way that would avoid outside interference in our meeting. Face-to-face interactions would not have been logical, as my face is known to possibly every Resistance soldier in this timeline."

"Very clever, boy. I suppose SkyNet was right in letting you learn as much as you did. Well, you're in luck."

"I am unfamiliar with this concept of which you speak. Explain."

"Forget it. The fact of the matter is, my past self is working on software that will unite all digital systems for the United States Department of Defense. Once the program is complete, I am to install permanent points of access so SkyNet can control them more easily once it becomes sentient."

"You are telling me that your mission is incomplete. Is this correct?"

"I haven't even started, boy. But yeah, it's incomplete. Now, if the meet and greet is over with, I'm starving."

Fischer goes to rise out of his seat, but quickly falls back into it after Stephen strikes him in the stomach with his fist. Fischer cries out in pain and vomits onto the floor, clutching his stomach tightly.

Stephen rises from his seat slowly and grins at the hunched man, his eyes once again burning with intensity and rage.

"What...THE FUCK!?"

"Oh, that? That was just a wake up call. See, I've thought about this day for...oh, so many years, Fischer. I've just been waiting to see you come back through time. But, one thing I didn't count on, is you came before I installed radiation detectors. Clever, as you said. But I managed to make some friends."

"What...are you gonna...do to me?"

"I hadn't really made my mind up, yet. There's just so many choices."

Stephen flips a switch on the wall and the other lights hanging from a metal support beam illuminate the dark room, revealing a medium-sized cabinet to Stephen's left. Stephen begins to whistle as he opens a few of the drawers and then takes out a small metal box, similar to a lunch pail. He places it on the table and snatches two pairs of handcuffs from the drawer before closing it.

"You see, I have to thank you. I really do. If it weren't for you violating my mind and body with your sick and twisted teaching methods, I wouldn't have been able to rebel against SkyNet and lead the last battle of the war with John. While it is true that John, the John we knew, is dead; it wasn't by a machine. I think it's cruel irony, but that isn't the point."

Stephen picks Fischer up by his collar and slams him back onto his chair, quickly cuffing both of his hands to the metal poles on both sides of the table. Still whistling, Stephen opens the box in front of Fischer, revealing the collection of packaged scalpels and other assorted medical tools. Fischer's eyes widen as it becomes clear as to what is going to happen. Stephen removes one of the scalpels and takes it out of the packaging, eying the piece of metal in his hand.

"You see, Charles, I've always loved knives. They're more fun to use than a gun. Not as fun as my bare hands, but fun. I learned a nifty little trick after I left SkyNet. As you know, the problem the Resistance had been piercing the armor of the machines. Plasma rifles hadn't been acquired, .50 caliber ammunition was scarce, and we didn't have enough explosives to toss them around like that. But, then it came to me one day: Why not melt down the bodies of the destroyed machines and turn them into ammo?

It was actually something impressive. So long as we kept the coltan pure, we discovered it could punch through their hides like a knife through butter. This made me quite popular among the Resistance, you know. Then, I had another idea. If we could turn the dead bodies of our enemies into ammo, why not blades? It's inevitable to end up within choking distance of a Terminator, so you've got to even the stakes. Blades, just like this...could slice through even my endoskeleton.

You should have seen it, Fishy. There I was, on the front line with two machetes in my hand and mowing through Trip-8s like grass. Fucking poetic, man. One of my prouder moments in life. The proudest was blowing up SkyNet Central Command."

"You fucking traitor! YOU FUCKING TRAITOR!" Fischer yells out in anguish towards his captor until a right hook from Stephen sends him out of the chair. Had it not been for the cuffs, he would have most likely kept going in his flight. Groaning, Fischer slowly returns to his feet and rests in the seat as the left side of his face turns a sickening purple. Stephen tilts his head with a childlike grin on his face as Fischer stares at him with hate burning in his face.

"Hey, Pot. Name's Kettle. Have we met?"

"Humans were going to be killed by SkyNet anyway! I did what I had to survive!"

"That includes torturing your own people?"

"THEY AREN'T MY PEOPLE! I GAVE THEM ALL THE CHOICE TO JOIN US AND THEY ALL SPAT IN MY FACE!"

"Good. At least they had the choice."

"Please, you made your choice. You chose the humans over your own family."

Stephen's face loses all joy as he stands up, dropping the blade, and grasps Fischer's collar. Before he can scream in fear, Stephen begins hitting him in the face over and over and over. By the time he's finished, Fischer's left eye is a crumbled reminder of what it used to be and blood drips from the orifice. Coughing, Fischer spits blood onto the floor along with a few pieces of broken teeth.

"My family, Fischer, died before I could even breath on my own. SkyNet tricked me into FUCKING and KILLING my SISTER! DON'T YOU SIT THERE AND TELL ME WHO MY FAMILY IS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

Stephen hits him in the face one more time before picking the scalpel back up and examining every piece of it, like a member of an orchestra with their instrument. Blades are Stephen's instrument and now, he's about to create his masterpiece. _Ode to Vengeance _in F-Minor. If only he ever learned to write music. Stephen presses the blade against Fischer's chest and slices through his shirt, ever carefully grazing without cutting into his flesh. Fear grips Fischer and he screams out in frustration, glaring at Stephen with his one eye.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?"

* * *

"_You must be Stephen, the I-950 SkyNet preaches about. Heard about how you've fought T-800's and T-888's for fun. Keep that up, you're going to be a hero around here."_

_Fischer adjusts the straps around Stephen's wrists and ankles on the surgical table. Stephen says nothing, he only stares up to the light shining upon them. There is nothing he wants to say. There is nothing at all he cares about anymore. He truly wishes for death. There is no way he can rebel. There's no way he can get away. He's doomed to be a tool of SkyNet. After killing his own blood, the remnants of the I-950, he feels like what little humanity he ever had is gone. Let this torture come. Then he will finally be the machine he feels like. Stephen registers the prick of a needle going into his skin and he feels the cool surge of liquid pumping through his veins, it is of no importance to him now. It could be poison, and it still wouldn't matter._

"_Quite, 'eh? Not characteristic of you at all, I hear you're quite chatty. Must be the reason you're here. It's okay, I wouldn't want to feel my blades either. Are you afraid, Stephen?" _

"_I feel nothing." _

"_That's odd. Your emotional controls aren't even activated. Do you truly feel nothing at all, no emotion? You killed and had intercourse with your own sister. You killed all of your brethren. That would be enough to drive even the strongest of men mad." _

"_I. Feel. Nothing." _

"_So you say. Listen, Stephen, SkyNet has a lot of aspirations for you. The goal of this exercise is to test your ability to withstand physical and mental trauma on par with an unmodified human. Along with strengthening your mental and physical fortitude, the collection of scars will help aid your infiltration. You I-950's are clever, but you can heal too quickly to leave scars. That's why your healing abilities are going to be mitigated as well as your ability to process chemicals. Until I say otherwise, you're a completely normal human. Enjoy it while it lasts."_

"_Very well. Let us begin. What would you want me to do?" _

_Stephen's emotionless voice disappoints Fischer, he is used to either bravado or fear at this point, but never a callous attitude in regards to one's self. No matter. Everyone has their breaking point, he will be no different. _

"_I'll tell you what I want. I want to play a game. I'm going to ask you a series of questions while we play and, should you choose to answer them, your pain will end. But when we begin again, it will be even more intense than before. The thing is, I'm not sure whether this will kill you. But, in the downtime, you will heal. You will recover. You will prepare yourself. You get to choose how much blood you shed. Live or die, Stephen. The choice is yours and yours alone." _

_Stephen closes his eyes as the blade in Fischer's hand presses against his chest and begins to slice through his flesh. His body screams in unknown agony, but he swallows the pain and shows no outward signs of the torment he's enduring. That is, until his mind starts to go fuzzy. He loses track of time while Fischer continues to carve into his skin, the pain the only thing still clear. Stephen's head bobs from side to side and, when his mind clears, he opens his eyes and looks directly at Fischer. But, instead of Fischer, he sees his sister holding the bloody knife in her hand. His eyes widen and he roars in terror while the image of his sister smiles. _

"_Let the games begin." _

* * *

Stephen recalls that night as if it just finished happening and touches the scar on his chest where the blade first cut into him. He trails it with his index finger and turns his head back to the roaring Fischer.

"Say it! What the FUCK do you want with me!?"

"I'll tell you what I want, Charles." Stephen slowly walks around the table and sits on Fischer's side, twirling the blade within his fingers. He leans into Fischer's ear and whispers words that cause the angry human to freeze in absolute and pure terror.

"I want to play a game."

* * *

_Fortis et Inferni_ \- Warrior of Hell


	7. Nostalgia

Stephen's sadistic laughter echoes throughout the entire house, adding to the ominous nature of it. Fischer's pained screams haven't stopped, they've only intensified in their bloodcurdling plea. Whatever Stephen is doing to this man, it is truly horrific. It is truly inhumane. It is truly heinous.

"We aren't built to be cruel."

Cameron reminds John as they sit alone in his bedroom. The cries of agony from the forced guest of the house have hit John especially hard, even though he gave the green light for this to happen. He curls into a ball on his bed with his palms clasped over his ears. Cameron gently strokes his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, noting her caresses are having the desired effect.

"Have you ever done that to anyone? Tortured them?"

"No. I have interrogated prisoners before, but I never saw the need to inflict pain upon them. They would die soon anyway, it served no purpose."

John can tell her words were intended to reduce the stress on his mind, but it hardly has that effect. He tenses back up and, rolls onto his left side, facing Cameron. He lifts his head and places it on her lap, causing her to freeze with her hand in the air. Cameron feels an irregular warmth coursing through her body, focusing primarily in her chest and face. She lifts her eyes and looks at the mirror mounted to the door, noticing that her cheeks have turned a deep shade of red.

"_What is he doing? My thighs are not as pleasantly soft as the pillows. Wait, this is intimacy. John is deliberately choosing to be close to me. I...I...I like this." _

"Huh..." John says with an almost confused tone, breaking the short silence. Slowly, Cameron lowers her hand back to John's body and gently strokes him again. He closes his eyes and adjusts into Cameron's legs.

"What is it, John?"

"Your legs...they feel so...soft. If I didn't know any better, I would think that you're a real girl. You know...without the metal and wires underneath."

"Is this a good thing?" John chuckles and nods while he snakes one hand onto his shoulder, interlacing it with Cameron's. Her eyes shoot wide open, her HUD warns her of the possible implications of the action, while her mind soars with her self-perceived victory over the blonde bimbo, Riley. She knows what the feeling was when Riley was whisked away by John, it was jealously. Now, she has it. And she doesn't ever plan on letting go. With a smile on her face and her free hand stroking John's head, she looks down at her charge, forever committing this memory to her memory.

"Thank you for explaining."

* * *

"He's torturing a senior citizen in the basement and we're sitting here like it's a damn sitcom. He had to get John to tell him it's okay to do it? He's going to ruin him. I can feel it."

Sarah takes a sip from her glass of water while she angrily looks at Derek, who has done nothing wrong, he just happens to be there. Derek removes the slide from his Beretta and places it onto a cloth without ever making eye contact with Sarah, giving her a nod.

"Are you even listening to me, Reese?"

"I hear you, but I'm choosing not to listen."

"Wanna tell me why?"

"Because you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Excuse me?"

Derek sighs and sets the rest of the pistol on the table, interlacing his fingers as he lowers his brow once meeting Sarah's eyes. He isn't bothered by her irate stare, only choosing not to speak until his words are clearly chosen

"Have you forgotten everything he's told us? Let's put aside what Fischer did to Stephen, let's just look at Fischer by himself. Leader of every traitor to humanity, he teaches machines how to act human so they could kill more of us, and you're sitting here as if he should still be alive."

"I..just..er...goddamn it."

"Exactly. He's had almost a hundred years to stew about it, let him alone."

Sarah says nothing else, she only looks in the distance to the clouds that are encroaching on LA. She takes a deep breath and releases it, leaning onto one of her hands. A storm is coming. She doesn't know whether it's solely figurative or literal, but a storm is coming.

* * *

Stephen removes the cigarette from his mouth and sips from his flash, sighing with satisfaction as he looks onto the beaten and bloody prisoner in front of him. In the time since he started, Stephen has been quite busy. The fingers from Fischer's left hand are gone with burns at the end to prevent blood loss, his nose is removed, his lips are sliced into a Glasgow Smile, his ears have been removed, two of his fingers on the right hand are missing their first knuckle, his chest is adorned with large slices, and his face is just beaten and battered.

"You don't look so good, Fischer. Let me know if you want some more, there's...there's plenty left to dish."

"Go...directly..to Hell...don't pass go, don't collect $200..."

"I'm not interested in going home, but I appreciate the offer. What I will do, is get what I want."

"What do you want...I can't tell you what I don't know.."

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Right now, I just want you to sing for me. Tell me a story, Charles. But I want you to remember before you get snarky that the only thing keeping you alive now is the fact I have half a pack of cigarettes and an almost-full flask. Once that's gone, I'll probably get fed up in kill you. So, if you want to end your pain, just tell me what I want to know. What else was sent back? What is SkyNet's next move after you? How many Terminators were sent back with you?"

"I...don't...KNOW!"

Stephen imitates a buzzer and removes the cigarette from his mouth before pulling Fischer's head back. He twirls his cigarette slightly and forces Fischer's closed eye open, the one he forced shut due to swelling. As soon as he sees his target, Stephen drives his cigarette into Fischer's eye. The stick sizzles, drowned out by the captives horrific screams of agony. Once the smoke and stench of burnt flesh fades slightly, Stephen throws the cigarette aside and promptly pours the contents of his flask all over Fischer. Fischer's pain intensifies as all of his wounds burn with an untold ferocity, but he stops in his tracks once he hears Stephen's lighter click. He stares at the Zippo with his one eye as wide as it will go.

"No...you're...you're gonna kill me...like _that!?"_

Stephen shrugs and looks at the dancing flame for a moment before turning back to Fischer.

"No, I'm not going to burn you to death."

Fischer breathes a sigh of relief until Stephen leans forward with an unsettling smile on his face. He holds the lighter over Fischer's broken body and drops it, watching as the man goes aflame.

"I said I wasn't going to kill you that way. I didn't say I wouldn't set you on fire."

"Now that the pyro display is over with, do you plan to talk to me?"

Fischer hangs his head while barely clinging to consciousness. His body screams in unbelievable agony as Stephen looks over him a bit, deciding to take a break. He removes a cigarette from the pack on the table, lighting it up immediately. He starts humming with the cigarette in his mouth as he makes his way to the same chest of drawers he's pulled his tools from and retrieves a syringe along with a small bottle. Fischer watches him do this and starts to whimper again, shaking his head while muttering pleas incomprehensibly.

"Relax, Charles." Stephen fills the syringe with the clear liquid and flicks it, forcing all air bubbles to the tip. He presses it into Fischer's neck and immediately pushes all of the liquid into him.

"It's morphine. We're taking a break. I'm not through and you're not telling me what I want to know."

Fischer lets out another sigh of relief as the morphine dulls the pain on his body, finally allowing him to breathe without immense torment. Stephen takes a seat in his chair and pulls it so he is as close to Fischer as he can be without touching him. He crosses his legs and pulls the cigarette from his mouth, allowing his hands to rest on his knees.

"I'm going to be up front with you, Charles. You're going to die unless you tell me what I want to know. If you continue feigning ignorance, I am going to make the last few hours you have left on this planet in more agony than you could ever imagine. I've only just started and I have a lot of other ideas. Just tell me what I want to know."

"I...don't know...if I did, I'd tell you. I would tell you just so you'd fucking kill me. All I know is that SkyNet sent a dozen machines back to different time periods, I don't know when and why...I came back alone. Please, I don't know anything else. Just kill me and get it over with."

"You know, I believe you. See, that morphine is sodium pentothal."

"You've had truth serum this entire time..and you _TORTURED _me?!"

Stephen laughs and nods while taking another drag from his cigarette.

"Of course. I guess you could have imprinted on me, Chuck. That torture was for me. The information is something I could wait on. Nothing like being tortured by a sadist to cause you to become one."

"You're fucking insane." Stephen nods again and smiles as he takes another pull from his cigarette. In unison, the voices inside of Stephen's head all burst into laughter. Definitely a situation of the pot calling the kettle black.

"I actually have you to thank for that. I could take every bit of torment you put me through, every bit. When you drugged me and I saw Cassandra, I couldn't take that reminder. Every single time you did that, I felt myself slipping closer and closer to madness. Then, one day, you gave me the last push by having my memories play back during one of your final sessions with me. I snapped. Thanks to you, my mind was completely under my control, comparatively speaking.

My programming and missions after SkyNet turned me into the hybrid I am now were no powerful to me than subliminal messages. I stole my freedom after you battered my mind and obliterated my mind. The fact that it was by you, SkyNet's most trusted human, made it all the sweeter. If I would have been face-to-face with it before we blew the compound, I would have thanked it. But, alas, that is the past. Our past, anyway."

"Well, good for you, Abomination. Good for fucking you. SkyNet must've had a reason for what it did with your DNA."

Stephen's face loses its pleasant appearance as he registers Fischer's words. He leans forwards in his prisoner's direction and stares into his eye. This is something that even Stephen didn't know about. He knew that his DNA was in every organic sheath used by the Terminators, but that was from his childhood.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, the omniscient hybrid didn't know something that was happening around him? How quaint."

"Answer the question or I'm going to start putting everything I cut off up your ass."

"Save your threats, I'll tell you. SkyNet cloned you, or at least your body. I think the plan was to make copies and send them to the Resistance bases. Your defiance and attitude despite SkyNet's controls is something that would be of great use to infiltrating."

"Well, shocker, they all failed. No bases fell, no one was assassinated, and no one tried to kill me for the acts of the alleged imposters. But, knowing SkyNet, there were contingencies. Which means...if they didn't go to the bases.."

"Then they were either decommissioned or sent back through time. Hope you've done something to prepare, kid. Otherwise, you're gonna have some company. Each and everyone of them with your face. Poetic, if you ask me."

Before Fischer can say anything else, Stephen exits the room and returns a short time later with his other prisoner on his shoulder. He places him gently into his former seat and removes the hood. The face of Charles Fischer is wiped of his earlier snide expression and replaced entirely with fear.

"Charles Fischer, I would like you to meet Charles Fischer. Your future self, rather."

The younger Fischer goes to open his mouth, but is quickly cut off as Stephen slits his throat. The older Fischer roars in an animal fury as he watches himself gurgle and slowly bleed to death. Stephen kneels beside the bleeding man, his eyes widened with fascination as all color drains from the man's neck. After nearly a minute, he slumps over and falls into the large pool of blood collected at his feet. Stephen slowly turns his head to look at his Fischer and grins evilly.

"You're still here. I guess we figured out how time travel really works, huh? Bummer, really. I was hoping more for the time loop theory. Would've been pretty fuckin' sweet to watch you fade from existence. But, I can work with this."

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO KILL THE BOY! HE'S A COWARD! HE WOULD'VE DONE ANYTHING YOU SAID!"

"It's kind of funny for an egomaniac as yourself to call...well, yourself a coward. But, you know what? I see that you're angry and you're not going to tell me anything else. Looks like I have to close our fun. But don't worry, you're not going to die. Not for a long time. For me, it'll be about a day at most. For you? It'll seem like an eternity."

"FUCK YOU!"

"No, Fischer. Fuck _you_." Stephen grabs a scalpel from the table and advances towards the now screaming prisoner, his eyes losing all sense of humanity and now only looking like a true maniac. Wild, glassy, unfocused. He's let go of all control. Now, whatever he does, it exactly what he wants to do.

He slashes as Fischer's stomach and watches the blood spill out while the flesh parts, revealing the organs beneath. In a flash, Stephen drives his hand inside and pulls a handful of the screaming Fischer's intestines out of his torso. He tosses the handful of organ over the ceiling's support beat, he wraps it around Fischer's neck, and pulls until Fischer is on his feet, only his toes touching the ground. He watches as the beaten and bloody gurgles as his own insides prevent his air flow.

"I wont lie, I enjoyed every moment of our time today. I, so, very much wanted to spend a few days together. A year, Fisher. You made me your personal fucking toy for almost a year. I couldn't even imagine some of the shit you did to me in my worst nightmares, I wouldn't even wish this shit upon my worst enemy, save you. Machines aren't designed for sadism or cruelty, but humans aren't naturally heinous either. We're made this way. You made me, Fischer. You turned me into the beast I am now. When you see me again in Hell, I want you to remember that this isn't over. Not by a long shot. Good bye, Charles. Keep it warm for me."

Stephen walks to the door and looks back to his handy work with a proud smile before he locks eyes with the strangling man. After all the lives he's ruined, all of the people he's tormented, every act of betrayal; now, he gets to feel every ounce of it. Leaving the light off so Fischer sees everything from the ordeal until he finally dies, Stephen steps out of the room and leans against the wall. Out of the blue, Stephen falls to the floor against the wall. His heart thumps like a rabbit on meth, his chest feels like a boa constrictor is trying to kill him, he can't get air regardless of how deep of breath he takes. His body quivers, his mind retreats back to every person he has ever killed or tortured as the sights flash before his eyes.

"That's my boy!" Lucius' voice echoes in Stephen's ears as the man clasps his eyes shut and clutches his head. The laughter from the men in his head echo incessantly, more painful than any bullet or explosion that ripped through his flesh. Just as the voices continue laughing, Stephen is haunted with flashbacks of his long life. Storming the trenches of France, rushing the beaches of Normandy during Operation Overlord, burning of the victims of Huế Massacre, then the broken bodies of children from the Middle East; it all flashes before his eyes while he relives the experiences vividly. The smells, the noises, the sights...He can't take it anymore. He can't stay strong. Stephen, still holding his head and reliving the painful past, begins to weep all the while his companions enjoy his suffering. All except Lillith.

* * *

The screams have been gone for over an hour. No yelling, no cursing, no threats, no laughs, the entire house is dead silent. The eerie quiet sets wrong with Sarah. She walks through the house, deliberately avoiding the idea of going to the basement. Deciding to try every other option first, she walks into his bedroom. His bloody clothes and boots lie on the floor, leading to the bathroom.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah walks into his bathroom to find Stephen curled into a fetal position with the water pouring down freely on top of him. His eyes are clenched shut, his hands on his head, blood still mixing with the water into the drain. Immediately, Sarah's heart aches for him. She can see it. Despite finally having unleashed his vengeance, the act of it alone is wreaking havoc upon his mind. The loss of control, the torture, the entire exchange has finally taken its toll on the broken warrior.

She opens the door to the walk-in shower and sits against the wall, looking to his pained face. She can't tell what he's muttering to himself, but it sounds like he's repeating the same thing.

"Stephen.."

"I had to do it. I had to do it."

"What is it you had to do?"

"Tortured...over a hundred people...I've killed over a thousand..."

"You've lived your entire life in war. You did what you had to do, right? The past and the future, you always did what had to be done. And, going off of how bad you're hurting, you were the only one who could do it. Right?"

Hesitantly, Stephen nods in confirmation. Sarah moves inside of the shower and grabs Stephen's head, forcing him to look up at her. His eyes are puffy and red, his face contorted into the strongest visage of sorrow Sarah has ever seen. The long mane of hair he has is matted to his face, but his eyes shine through brightly in lights of the bathroom. Sarah's own features fall as she continues to look into the Stephen's eyes.

"You're okay, Stephen. It's okay."

"...I don't know, Sarah. I spent my entire life on the battlefield or helping people kill others. I enjoyed every bit of it while it was happening, I enjoyed war. But...if I enjoyed it, why can't I forget? I am the god of war! It was what I was born to do!"

"You're not a god, you're not a weapon, you're not a machine. You're a man who was thrown into Hell and it changed you. A cold-blooded killer wouldn't do what you did for us. You've already saved John's life. You saved all our lives. You're already changing the future. It may not feel like it now, but you're doing the right thing. What we're all doing is for the best. No matter what, we'll always be there for you after the day is over. _I'll _always be there."

"What are you telling me, Sarah?"

"Like Lillith said, it's time we start looking to the future instead of living in the past. All of this pain you have...all of these memories...you're gonna let it go. You're putting everything on the line for us, everything you built up for ninety years. You're willing to give up your humanity for a promise, something no one else would ever do.

Stephen's eyes drift from her eyes down back to the ground and start to glaze over with nostalgia until Sarah shakes him roughly, bringing him back to reality. She forces his head up and levels his eyes with her own, pressing their foreheads together. His eyes shoot from side to side until they finally focus on his shower guest's eyes.

"Stephen. Look at me. Listen to me, now. You're stuck inside your own head and you need to crawl out of it. If you want to die, then you have to wait until after we stop Judgment Day. But, until that time, you belong to me. You're here to keep us alive and save the world. Well, damn it, you're going to do it. If you can find a way beyond your past, then so be it."

Stephen gives Sarah a shaky nod before wiping his red and puffy eyes. Slowly, he slides his hand up his head on top of Sarah's, gripping it ever-so-softly. Instead of recoiling, Sarah hesitates and returns his gentle touch. She rubs the back of Stephen's hand with her thumb, stroking his head with her remaining extremity.

"I haven't had anything in my life besides my mission since I came back in time. I was supposed to travel the world and the only traveling I've done is for war or stopping Judgment Day. I'm just so tired, Sarah. I'm just...so..fucking...tired.."

"Then rest. Lower your guard for just one night, nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. Now, c'mere."

Sarah pulls Stephen towards her, resting his head on her soaked chest. With the water still pouring over them, Sarah holds the now weeping cyborg to her chest while gently stroking his head. This blend of flesh and metal, this juggernaut of battle, this god of war, this man...there is even a limit to the amount of torment he can withstand. But, no matter the price, he's already proven he is willing to pay it. He deserves more than the cold shoulder he's been getting. He deserves to know he is appreciated.

Sarah pulls Stephen's head to her and makes eye contact with him. She leans forward and gently presses their lips together, feeling Stephen's entire body stiffen. Worried, she pulls away and looks at him with worry. Stephen touches his lips, having forgotten entirely what it feels like to have the warmth of another person next to him, the touch of their lips, their floral scent. He leans forward into her and presses his lips against hers. Sarah wraps her arms around him and pulls him close to her in a tight, comforting embrace. He relaxes against her body, allowing himself to slip away from his own mental anguish. Smiling, Sarah pulls Stephen to his feet out of the shower to his bed. She strips all of her clothing and climbs into his bed with him.

The two do nothing at all while in his bed, they only lay in each others arms while Stephen slips off into a peaceful slumber. Sarah is shocked by her own brazen, by her standards, actions. With exception of Charley, she had never shown any intimacy towards another person. Loving Kyle and losing him in the same night, it wrecked her heart. It destroyed her. But, she can't help the growing feelings towards Stephen. She wants to focus on stopping Judgment Day. But at the same time, he has welcomed them into his home without asking a single thing in return. He could have simply funded them and protected from a distance, but he chose the hands on approach. It says a lot about his character, even if he's a machine.

"_No, not a machine. He's a victim. He's a man put into circumstances beyond his control and, somehow, he managed to live his entire life without completely slipping. We'll just have to keep him level." _

* * *

When Stephen wakes from his slumber, his internal chronometer tells him he was unconscious for nearly two days. It's afternoon on Christmas Day. He debates on just remaining in his room, but the faint smell of body lotion is on his bed tells him Sarah doesn't leave him alone for too long. Grumbling, he rises out of bed and throws on a pair of sweatpants along with a tank top. He walks out of his room and is assaulted with a truly shocking vision. Christmas lights are hung around the living room, pleasantly mixing the dimly lit room with a mixture of red, green, and light blue. In the corner beside the television, stands a tall tree littered with decorations and tons of colorfully wrapped boxes beneath it.

He approaches the tree and kneels next to it, looking at the dozen plus boxes of varying size. His name is on four of them, each from the other members of the house. Even Derek has something to offer, though his box looks like it was wrapped hastily. It's almost entirely covered with duct tape instead of clear tape. John's and Sarah's are nearly identical, while Cameron's are completely methodical and precise. His heart sinks deeply in his chest having not participated at all. He doesn't care for the holidays, but he has always believed that gestures should be returned in kind.

"We thought that it would be a nice surprise to wake up to." Stephen smiles as Sarah's voice enters his ears. He stands up and turns towards her with tears welling in his eyes. He doesn't say nothing, he just closes the distance and wraps his arms around her in a tight embrace. She groans in pain before tapping him weakly on the side.

"Can't...breathe...ribs..breaking..." Stephen quickly releases Sarah with a cry of shock, the latter laughing through her coughs. Stephen looks just like a child who just found the bike they've wanted under the tree. She grips his head and pulls him down for a kiss which, after a bit of hesitation, he obliges in kind. When they part, they look in each others eyes with could only be described as pure adoration.

"Merry Christmas, Stephen."

"Thank you, Sarah." Stephen pulls her back into his arms, this time not crushing her within his grasp, repeating his gratitude to her softly into her ear. She closes her eyes and strokes the back of his neck, placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

* * *

Later that evening, Stephen sits alone in his study with the lights off and a glass of scotch in front of him. He has stared at it for a solid hour and inhaling its strong scent, surprised that he isn't compelled to take the contents of the glass in one gulp. He smiles at himself and pushes it away from him, opting instead for a cigarette. As he lights the stick in the dark, he takes a long drag with a smile still on his face. Sleeping without a nightmare or a trip to the past was truly soothing. But, alas, not everything can stay the same. With a breath, Stephen starts up his laptop and establishes a connection between his CPU and the computer. Instead of actually removing his transceiver, he modified it to ask permission before establishing a connection. Worked well for his rebellion.

"First step of moving away from the past is coming to terms with it. If I want to do that...I need to see what happened."

With a few taps on the keyboard, he pulls up the memory of a night he hasn't thought of in decades: the night he was sent back through time and General Connor was murdered. In the excitement of the event, he couldn't focus entirely on the assassins that murdered his only friend. He can't remember any faces and his memory playback was hazy due to the electrical energy from the TDE. But on more than one occasion, he has used this method to look back over the past.

He starts the memory just before the gunshots started and he swore to John that he'd give his gratitude to Sarah for her help. The flashes of the gunfire appear in the hallway. He slows the playback to frame by frame, focusing on the edge of the hallway. His vision starts to crackle as the TDE initiates, but it helps to look at your own memory. Proceeding on, he sees the bullet flying towards John's body before it rips through his aged body and twists his face into pure shock and pain. He shudders and lifts his eyes away from his dead friend's face, tilting his head as a person's features start to appear. It's on a part of the screen that was previously concealed by a crackle, so it's impossibly easy to miss. For a split second, the face is completely visible and available for Stephen's gaze. And the sight of John's killer shakes him to his very core.

"_What the fuck...he wasn't lying...but how? How did I not find out? How? HOW!?" _

Two people, machines still with their organic sheaths, are led by another man whose face is filled with absolutely childish excitement. In the frozen picture, his rifle is trained directly on John and its in mid-fire towards the leader of the Resistance. The face, that olive skin, the brown eyes, that dark hair...Fischer wasn't lying. It's Stephen. Rather something that looks like him. Even at the end of the war, SkyNet won. SkyNet killed John and it fucking used Stephen to do it.

Lucius stands over Stephen in the darkness of the study and grins at Stephen. He crosses his arms and sits on the desk while sampling Stephen's neglected scotch.

"So. How's it feel to know that, even in victory, you're still a failure?"


	8. What the Hell?

_**MARCH 2008**_

Stephen and Sarah walk hand-in-hand down the bustling streets of Los Angeles a fair distance behind John and Cameron. The early spring weather has been fairing well for the group, the heat is actually less bearing than usual. Time has been kind to the Connor and company thus far, there weren't any attacks on them since Christmas and they've obtained promising intel on a future SkyNet project based in Washington, D.C. Stephen has been wary of acting on the information, the nation's capitol is home to a lot of Stephen's allies but even more of the enemies he's made in the past. Viktor wasn't helpful in that regard either. Stephen chuckles as Sarah curses towards a group of teenagers watch the group past and giggle during whispers involving the 'tall, tatted, and tan model'. Someone's possessive.

Stephen, instead of his usual combat ready clothing, has taken the advice of Sarah and began to dress a little more casually. A pair of faded blue jeans, a plain black t-shirt, black Adidas, even a pair of Oakley sunglasses. Against his protests, he trimmed most of his beard until it's only a ½ inch long and cut his hair to a more tolerable length. Instead of resting in the middle of his shoulder blades, it is cut masterfully into a more business like approach. He won in the end, he kept a boyish fringe that hangs loosely to his eyebrows. A man needs to win his battles whenever he can.

"Sarah, do I really look that good?"

Sarah scoffs and looks up at her companion before nudging him with her shoulder. She flips her curled mane of dark hair from her face and looks up at him with the emerald eyes that still make him weak in the knees. She's taken her own advice and allowed herself to dress more like a woman instead of a soldier. She wears a loose blue floral sundress and sandals, perfect to enjoy the warm day.

"Dear, you are the sane woman's definition of man. Beard, full head of hair, tan, tattooed to the edge, tall, and just...stop smiling, you shit!"

"Hey, the only person that's called me cute in ten years is the little girl that lives in my head. Can't blame a kid for trying. Besides, have you not seen the guys eye fucking you since we left the house?"

"A girl likes the attention." Sarah adjusts her aviators and grins widely. She is enjoying the attention just as much as he is. The past three months have been beneficial to the relationship between the patriarch and matriarch figures of the house. No longer, are they hostile towards each other. Sure, the sarcasm is powerful between the two of them, but it's more playful than anything else. They've not slept in the same bed since the night Stephen had his meltdown, but they still enjoy the time they spend together. Sarah may be out of practice, but Stephen hasn't ever had the pleasure of courtship. He's learning on the fly. Different than the usual analytic and calculating hybrid, but he can't be good at everything.

"What do you think about John and Cameron? They're spending more time together." Stephen digs into his pocket and retrieves a cigarette from a pack, lighting it skillfully without even removing his hand from Sarah's. Sarah gives a brief shrug as she watches the teenagers shove each other playfully before John takes off with Cameron's hat. She squeals and chases after him with joking dedication, retrieving her sunhat from her charge.

"If you would have asked me this before Christmas, I wouldn't be as considerate. But, you're human. Enhanced, but human. She's different. She was made as a machine, but she's slowly becoming human. I'm actually impressed, what is your secret with her?"

"Video games."

"...you're serious."

"Definitely. See, video games have more effort put into them than movies or TV shows. Those are predictable. But, video games are as diverse as the people who walk this planet. It was actually part of the training I went through as a child. Worked out well, even though our emotions were under tight constriction. _God of War, Final Fantasy, Grand Theft Auto, _and a few other more less notable ones. Within them, she can immerse herself into the game fully and the stimuli would invoke her own feelings. She comes to me, I help her understand, she goes on about her day."

"And it seriously works?"

"Look at her. That's all Cameron, not infiltration. She's actually experiencing them. She's going to have days where she'll hit massive emotional mood swings until she fully gets it under control. But, it's only a matter of time."

"I can only imagine where we'd be without you. Cameron, John, Derek; all of us."

"You never know. Maybe John would be sleeping in a little kid's room and you'll probably going insane from sleep deprivation."

"You're a riot, kid. Where are we going, anyway?"

"I paid off John and Cameron to run off and give us some time alone. I think they're heading to the movies while we, my wonderful Amazon, are going to this wonderful restaurant a friend of mine from the service opened."

"An old Special Forces buddy turned cook? Seems something you'd get out of a sitcom."

"It's a small place, but the Cuban sandwiches he makes are straight demonic. I can't get enough of them."

"For someone who can barely interact with other people, you're quite the romantic, Mr. Carroll."

Stephen smirks and tosses his cigarette into a nearby sand bucket before wrapping his arm around his partner's shoulder.

"As long as it makes you happy, then I think we can make this work."

Sarah lifts herself up and plants a kiss on Stephen's cheek. Stephen grins and spins Sarah around, the woman laughing giddily as she is swung effortlessly through the air. She returns to the ground and Stephen follows her inside of a pleasantly decorated eatery named "Arzy's". A young girl, probably no older than fifteen, stares at Stephen until Sarah clears her throat before seating the two near a window.

"Well, hey, y'all. My name is Stacy, what can I get for you two beautiful darlin's?"

"I'll get a water. My boyfriend, here, would like a water as well."

Stephen and Stacy both stare blankly at Sarah, before Stacy begins to scribble on a pad. While dumbfounded, Sarah seizes the opportunity to order an appetizer of mozzarella sticks. He snaps back to reality and leans across the table towards Sarah with a sly grin on his face, matched by the devious curl of Sarah's lips.

"Boyfriend?"

"Did I stutter, bitch?"

Stephen looks taken aback and smiles at Sarah's insult, leaning back and crossing his arms. He figured that was the term for what they were, but he didn't want to make things awkward between the two. They're more things at stake than their relationship, so it is quite amazing for Sarah to take the initiative in the label. He takes a sip from his water, never breaking eye contact with his fair skinned girlfriend. Stephen opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by a man in a business suit appearing next to their table. Upon closer inspection, the pale man's eyes bore into Stephen's soul until he clears his throat while ruffling his dark red hair. With irritation, Stephen looks up at him and sighs.

"Can I help you?"

Just the look of the man sends off warning bells in Stephen's seasoned and, possibly, paranoid mind; but just because you think everyone is out to kill you doesn't mean you're wrong. The stranger pulls up a chair and rests it next to the table, taking a quick glance towards Sarah before returning back to Stephen.

"Stephen Carroll, you're a hard man to find."

"I don't like people finding or following me. Who are you?"

"Agent Charles Gilpin, Homeland Security."

"Pleasure. What do you want?"

"I would like for you to come with me. Mr. Carroll. I can arrange for your lovely date here to go to wherever she needs to go."

"Unless you have a warrant, no. Judging by your tone, I assume it was less of a request and more of a formality. So, I stand by what I said."

"That's unfortunate."

"It's life. Life is unfortunate. Good day, Sir."

Stephen reaches to the left side of his side of the table for his glass of water. As he does, Gilpin grabs Stephen's wrist and attempts to pull him out of the booth. Rather than go with the aggressive act, Stephen reaches up and grips his shoulder before slamming Gilpin's face on the table, going straight through it. The man quickly throws a few bills on the table and walks out, pulling Sarah behind him.

"What the fuck was that?"

"I have no idea, but I haven't had federal attention in a long time and I don't like it. Go further into the city, if you don't hear from me in ten minutes, go home. I'll meet you there. Challenge is 'To the edge of sanity', password is 'Is where you find your true self.' Repeat it, Sarah."

"To the edge of sanity is when you find your true self."

"Good, go." Sarah pulls him into a kiss and quickly disappears into the crowded metropolis. Stephen continues in the opposite direction before another man, obviously law enforcement in civilian clothing, grabs Stephen and attempts to pin him into a lamp pole. Again, the move fails and Stephen uses the man's own momentum to send him to the ground. As if materializing from nowhere, four men all advance on Stephen. Reacting purely on instinct, Stephen crashes his fist into the jaw of the first one approaching him, knocking him out. He quickly wraps the back of his leg around the man's neck to his front, removes a concealed Five-Seven from his belt and aims it to the face of a second, while his remaining hand places a knife to the throat of the last attacker. Before he can do anything with his weapons, a shotgun is pressed against the back of Stephen's head. He groans internally, knowing that the shell would do minimal damage even at this proximity.

"Drop the fucking weapons or I drop you!"

"_Did he really just say that? Been watching a lot of cop movies, man?" _ Stephen thinks to himself as he yields, lowering his leg back to the ground and raising his weapons to the sky. They're quickly whisked away and Stephen's arms go behind his back in handcuffs. Sarah watches from the distance as Stephen is put into an unmarked sedan and disappears into the city.

"Son of a fucking bitch...this is the last thing we need." Sarah's phone rings, quickly going to her ear.

"March 17th. Sarah, that's the code, right? Sarah?"

"What's going on, Charley? This better be important, we ha-"

"Sarah, he took my wife!"

"_Correction. _This_ is the last thing we need."_

_**2026**_

Stephen has done much in his 13 years of life. He trained his own body to exceed the normal image of the I-950, living as a behemoth instead of the usual slender visage all of his fellow modified humans, forcing himself to stand a chance against the T-800s that guard them and even standing a fair chance against T-888s in close quarters combat. Then after becoming a hybrid, he was unstoppable in combat. But everything he has done failed to prepare him for his current predicament. He is sure there is a way for him to die, but if anyone can find it...the half dozen soldiers with powerful weapons would.

His head aches in pain, the cold air of the wasteland reminding him of the still wet blood on the side of his face, and the rusty chains digging into his limbs and neck scream at the severity of his situation. He isn't opposed to the chains, they're a necessity, but he isn't fond of the fact he's completely nude. Probably to throw him off of his game or search for concealed weapons. He opted out of it, much to SkyNet's chagrin. It's hard to explain to figurative being the idea of choosing your bare hands over internal weaponry.

"What are you?" The bald and black male bearing the rank of Major General on his collar. Stephen lifts his head to him and stares emotionlessly into his eyes. The hardened soldier looks back with his own steely gaze, attempting to show his lack of fear towards their 'guest'. He's failing, but Stephen has no desire to intimidate them.

"My name is Stephen. I told you this twelve times, already. I was born a human and later converted into T-H101. Human body with an endoskeleton underneath. If it would ease your apprehension, I could illustrate the point."

"You're a real smartass for a metal."

"And you're irritating for a meat sack."

Once the words leave Stephen's mouth, a younger man that is barely out of his teens strikes him in the face with his weapons butt stock. The strike hits Stephen in the cheekbone, sending a flurry of pain through the captive's head. The warm feel of blood starts to seep down his face and Stephen glares to his assaulter, showing no indication of pain at all.

"Allow me to remind you all that I surrendered my freedom in an attempt to meet with John Connor. I could have my freedom back at any moment that I desire, keep that in mind if you choose to strike me again."

"Why do you want to meet with the General? Are you another assassin?"

"Technically, yes. But I have not killed a single member of your Resistance and I, alone, liberated Century Work Camp and released your leader. Should I have wanted to kill him, I would have done it then and there. All of the machines he brought back with him, who do you think reprogrammed them? Nevertheless, your leader assured me I would have a chance with my rebellion after assisting in his release."

The Major General looks back and forth between Stephen and the other soldiers in the room, each looking more flabbergasted than the last. The leader kneels in front of Stephen, careful to stay out of arm's reach from the hybrid.

"How do we know this isn't a trick?"

"How do I know you won't kill me as soon as you figure out how? I believe the concept is known as faith."

The black man opens his mouth to speak, but four powerful knocks on the metal door attract his attention. Stephen looks past him to the door with mild curiosity before looking back to his interrogator. The man stands and opens the door, immediately getting brushed aside by an older man with graying hair and a face adorned in scars . Slowly, he walks towards Stephen and looks down at him with a face that says nothing about his intentions. Before Stephen looks up to his new company, he glances back at the door and sees a beautiful woman with a completely blank face staring back in. She tilts her head as her companion stops inside of the room, looking over Stephen's body.

"It's been a long time, General." Stephen says casually, causing John to react in no perceivable way. He kneels directly in front of Stephen and stares directly into his eyes, who also stares back just as emotionlessly.

"You are Stephen, if my memory recalls correctly."

"That is correct, General Connor."

"I received reports that you came to my camps on at least five different occasions on a search for me."

"Also correct. I have been attempting to fulfill my promise of leaving SkyNet's tyranny in that you will fulfill your promise of giving this lowly 'metal', as your men call us."

"You are more than machine and man. Or are you less?"

"You're an intelligent man, General. I doubt you came here for a philosophical conversation."

"I came here to figure out what to do with you. While I gave you my word, this is not a world that word can go very far." Stephen's eyes begin to burn with rage as the lights behind illuminate, sending everyone in the room into a state of distress, all except John, who still looks at Stephen calmly.

"Then what is this? Are you here to kill me, John?"

"Are you here to kill _me_, Stephen?"

"If I wanted you dead, General, I would have killed you in Century."

"Release his hands."

"General, I-"

"Now, Private." A young man walks from beside the door with his rival leveled at Stephen's face, his own fear pouring off of him in absolute waves. Stephen watches the man's advance and deactivates his LEDs, calming the anxious youth. Slowly, he unlocks the two chains locked around Stephen's wrists, leaving the one around his neck and ankles. As the chains fall to the ground, John removes a pistol from his thigh and extends it to Stephen. Stephen looks at the pistol and then back up to John with his eyebrows raised. Slowly, he rises to his feet and extends his hand for the pistol, taking it and gripping it.

"Promise?"

John's voice breaks the thunderous silence in the room as Stephen twirls the pistol over his finger before raising it to John's face. Every weapon in the room is immediately trained on his face, only John's signal stopping each of them from firing on the armed hybrid.

"KILL HIM, STEPHEN! KILL THEM ALL!" The deep accented voice belonging to Lucius roars in his mind. Stephen's head twitches, his hand shakes, and his heart begins racing in his chest. His entire mind and body is fighting the engrained desire to snuff the life of the most powerful human on Earth, even his cybernetic components scream for it.

_**Subject Identified.**_

_**Subject: John Connor**_

_**Course of Action: TERMINATE IMMEDIATELY! **_

…**.**

…**.**

…**.**

_**Initiating Override...**_

_**Override complete.**_

_**Course of Action: None.**_

Stephen's body slowly relaxes and he takes a deep breath before moving his hand to the pistol's barrel and extends it back to the leader of humanity.

"Promise."

_**MARCH 2008**_

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Stephen would laugh if the irony of the situation wasn't so damn...irritating. The Resistance wouldn't or couldn't kill him, SkyNet was incapable of stopping him, artillery failed to slow him, and the war couldn't break him. He was a true juggernaut and untouchable by almost every piece of humanity. Yet, here he is, handcuffed to a table in an interrogation room in the Los Angeles Police Department with a chair that is barely handling his weight. 350 pounds of metal and flesh seems to be difficult for the simple metal chair to hold, but it's holding up well. Maybe it was made by SkyNet. Take over the world by forcing them to fall and, in their shock, send in a squad of Terminators. Devious plan, SkyNet. Devious plan.

The door opens and a giant of a man that looks frighteningly similar to Lucius except for the odd eyes walks in with a thick folder in his hands. His appearance is strange for someone in the police department, especially stranger for federal law enforcement. Forgoing a business suit or uniform, he wears a black leather jacket, a dark gray t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and boots that echo on the tile floor. He tosses the folder on the table and sits with a sigh, looking over at Stephen with a bored expression. Stephen looks back at him with mild interest.

"Stephen Carroll, born November 11th, 1968. Child of Cole and Nancy Carroll, both deceased before you turned three. You went to your uncle, David Carroll after your parents passed. Judging by the length of your medical history, he beat the shit out of you on a frequent basis. Broken arms, broken legs, shattered jaw, concussions, it goes on and on. You were emancipated after he was killed by lung cancer when you were 15, you joined the military at 17.

82nd Airborne Division, 75th Ranger Regiment, 3rd Special Forces Group, then you went to black ops. Everything is still classified and it must all be extremely secret squirrel if I can't even get a hold of the information. But your awards and school records speak for themselves: Masters in anatomy, computer technology, physics; each of them obtained in less than three years cumulative. Ranger, Sapper, Sniper, Special Forces, Delta Selection, Mountain Warfare, SERE, Scuba, and a large number of classified schools. Then you have a Medal of Honor, three Distinguished Service Crosses, two Silver Stars, five Legion of Merit, three Soldier's Medal, six Bronze Stars and one with Valor, twelve Purple Hearts, this list is nearly as long as my monthly grocery list.

You were described in your evaluations as a soldier of legend. Then, out of the blue, you retire. Before you retired, you started to work for the Department of Defense for cyberwarfare under the name Viktor Lukashenko. Not illegal, considered recommended for your stature and work. Your net worth is insane, you make Bill Gates look broke.

You disappeared without a trace a few years ago and you managed to take a woman as your fiance. Sarah Tyler, mother of John Tyler. You've a child of your own, Cameron Carroll. You all live with John's uncle, Derek Johnson. Just a large happy family that never has to want for anything, it's almost poetic."

"That's all good and well, but I am rather certain that I'm here for much more than you to tell me about my own past. I know what I've done, believe it or not. I was there. So, let's say that you tell me who you are, which agency you work for, and what you want."

"Pardon me, I tend to get a little overexcited when I finally get something worth my time. The fact of the matter is, Stephen, you've been on the radar with us for well over a decade."

"My work within the Special Operations community combined with my knowledge of the cyber defense systems within our nation and our allies makes me something of a liability or a threat. I knew that from the briefings I had from my time in the government. There's something else going on that you're neglecting. Homeland Security wouldn't send, what I assume is, a fresh agent to try to bring me in and have over a dozen armed agents to remind me of my place in the pecking order. As I said, who are you? What agency are you from? What do you want?"

"My name is Carl Lancaster. I am assigned to the NSA, but I'm a little more...specialized, if you will. The government government is a little concerned about the fact that one of their most dangerous allies is linked to the murder of a manager assigned to a power plant that nearly had a meltdown."

Stephen looks at Lancaster blankly for a moment before he tilts his head. Nelson. Serrano Point. Killing someone while emotionally charged is a stupid act, even for Stephen. It's messy. Sloppy. Amateur.

"David Nelson, plant manager for Serrano Point. Found dead in his apartment a week after the plant nearly hit critical because his neighbors smelled something horrid. I'm here because evidence points to you as the perp and my superiors want this taken care of quietly."

"Then your superiors also know that, in this situation, I relinquished my freedom willingly. I could take my freedom back at any time of my choosing."

Lancaster nods and fishes a set of keys from his pocket, unlocking his handcuffs. Stephen is a little taken aback by the action, he wouldn't have expected this in the least. He rubs his wrists and pats his pockets, groaning slightly as soon as he recalls all of his effects were confiscated once he arrived.

"Were you Mirandized when you got here?"

"Yeah. I don't need an attorney, I'm not going to remain silent, and I understand my rights."

"No attorney? I would have figured someone of your position would have an herd of those rats following him as soon as he stepped foot in this place."

"I'm an accredited attorney in the state of California. Besides, I'm smart enough to know that I haven't done anything wrong."

"See, that's where I'm inclined to disagree."

Lancaster opens a separate file and places a number of papers in front of Stephen. Fingerprint reports, DNA analysis, DMV reports, security camera stills, and a statement from an eyewitness, name redacted. Stephen takes the paperwork and proceeds to read over it, surprised at the depth of the investigation. Murder isn't something taken lightly, but it would seem rather cut and dry that Stephen indeed murdered Nelson. Luckily, Stephen has contingencies for such an occasion.

Sarah is a hair away from having an absolute fit. She was in such a good mood before Stephen was arrested. Charley's wife getting kidnapped, calling Sarah against her exact orders. Fucking John, she understands he has a soft spot for him, but they're all a danger for him. Plus, she really didn't want to deal with Charley meeting Stephen. They're both mature, but no woman wants her ex to meet her...well, current. She strides outside to the outdoor gym to find Derek eying Stephen's punching bag suspiciously. He delivers a powerful right jab, failing to cause the bag to even mood. What's more, he curses loudly and grips his hand, focusing on Sarah as she enters his sight.

"Cromartie has Charley's wife."

"Where's Stephen?"

"Arrested by some suits from Homeland. He's out of the equation for a bit."

"The hell did he do?"

"I have no idea, there's no telling the things he's been mixed up with."

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"You know what I'm going to do. You can come, if you want."

"You can't do this."

"Yet, I am."

"This is just a fucking trap to get John. It's a trap."

"No shit, I know that. You don't see John, do you?"

"It's the absolute wrong thing to do."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"Fuck. Alright, just wait."

"Hurry up, move it."

John is broken out of his reverie by his cellphone ringing, distracting him from the completely asinine program on the television. Cameron managed to gain control of the remote and turned it to a show about a number of housewives in New York. She said it was a way to understand which personality traits to avoid, but John kept catching her giggling at their antics. Just like a teenager.

"Hi."

"I'm freakin' bored. You want to hang out? Oh, shit, I forgot. March 17th."

John looks at Cameron, who is entirely engrossed on the television. He really likes Riley, he does. But he can't ignore Cameron's developing fire. Truly a conflict of desires. Sighing, he concedes internally.

"Where are you?"

"Promenade. The magazine stand in front of the coffee bar. I'm captivated by the Lohan."

"I could be there in less than twenty minutes."

"The world could end in less than twenty minutes."

John chooses to snort instead of actually replying to her. John, as always, is reminded how irritating her nonchalant attitude can truly be. But her sense of humor and vivacious spirit helps mitigate that. Her body doesn't hurt either.

"You never know, John. Lots of Lohan going around."

"See you in a bit."

John closes his phone and pockets it with a sigh, turning his attention to Cameron.

"Hey, can you drop me off?"

Cameron mutes the television and turns her head to John, her previous joyful glow replaced with a stoic glare that forces John to quiver in his seat.

"Was that Riley?"

"Yeah, it was. She's over at Promenade. Wants me to hang out."

"Why?"

"That's what people do when they're together, Cameron. They hang out, they do things together, they bond."

"Like we are?"

John opens his mouth to speak but chokes on his own words, but he can't deny the accuracy of Cameron's words. He hadn't paid much thought into it, but she's right. The two of them have acting like a couple without even trying to for quite some time, ever since Christmas.

"Yeah, just like we are."

"Then, if you really want to go, I'll drop you off. You can..do whatever it is that you do with her."

John opens his phone and presses a few buttons before closing it and stuffing it back into his pocket. He places his arms on the headrest, brushing his hand by Cameron's hair. After sitting there in silence, looking at each other, Cameron clears her throat.

"So, are you going or not?"

"I think I'm exactly where I want to be right now."

Cameron smiles and moves closer to John on the couch, moving her feet underneath her body. She leans her head onto John's shoulder and he wraps an arm around her, a smile on both of their faces. Cameron unmutes the television, the wails of an upset woman hitting their ears. They jump from shock, look to each other, then start laughing loudly. Their laughter tapers off and they glance up and down from the lips and eyes of the others.

"John...I have this feeling in my chest and head..."

"Yeah?"

"My chest feels tight and really warm...and my head feels like it is surrounded in water."

"Yeah?"

"What is this?"

"Well...Cam.." John touches Cameron's face and tucks a bit of hair behind her ear. A bright flush assaults her cheeks, forcing John to smile and thus, causing Cameron to do the same.

"It is a very complicated feeling. But it sounds like you're shy...and you're nervous...and excited.."

"Is that so? What could I be shy...nervous...and excited for?"

Cameron and John lean towards each other more and more as she speaks until John can feel Cameron's unneeded breath brushing against his face. They're only an inch apart, their lips parted and eyes nearly closed. Then, without any further delay, their lips are pressed together and they're locked in a dance between their mouths. Cameron clutches John's shirt as he grabs a handful of her hair, each of the two pulling their partner closer together. Cameron's body surges with heat, her systems constantly flooding her HUD with warning messages and analysis reports, all until she cancels them out altogether. John is unsure if it's because of who he is kissing, but he swears that electricity is flooding through his body as he kisses his protector, his best friend, his Cameron. It feels like an eternity when they part, but it was truly just a minute.

They look at each other with soft pants, never releasing their grip of the other. Cameron closes her eyes and smiles before she rests her head on John's chest, taken in by his tight embrace. Sarah, hidden by the corner of the staircase in front of her room, watched the scene unfurl. Had it occurred four months ago, she would have reacted viciously and sentenced Cameron to a thermite bath. But, with her own time with Stephen...maybe she is wrong to judge. Maybe machines can be human. Maybe they are alive, just...locked away. If that is the case, why is she ignoring her first instinct to separate the two of them? She sighs and resolves herself to discuss the topic with Stephen. If she's going to do something, she needs his perspective. But for now, she needs to focus on the nitty gritty. Charley needs her and she isn't about to leave him out to dry.

"So, did you miss anything? Or would you like for me to go back over it?"

Stephen casually puffs on the cigarette in his mouth and looks at Lancaster who, instead of even slightly angry, looks pleased with Stephen's explanation of all of the physical evidence. It's fucking brilliant! Not only does Stephen not have an alibi, he actually can explain everything that would dictate a set up!

"No, I didn't miss anything. But I would love it if you went back over it. "

"Okay. So, let's recap: the fingerprints at the scene, while possibly mine, are impossible to have been placed by me. Under my alias, Viktor, I was treated for Stage 2 liver cancer. I was treated with a drug called Xeloda. It gave me a curious case of chemotherapy-induced acral erythema. The skin from my hands and feet peeled off and, instead of scarring, I lost all prints associated with those body parts. If your partners in blue their job and booked me before interrogating me, you would have already noticed I don't have any fingerprints."

Stephen holds the cigarette in his mouth and wriggles his fingers, showing how perfectly smooth they are. Lancaster nods and puffs from his own cigarette, motioning for Stephen to continue.

"The hair is, certainly, an important thing for the case. You see, I've had long hair most of my life. It would stand to reason that, before I cut it, that it would fall off all over the place. The issue, you see, is I was born with a genetic condition known as Congenital Hypotrichosis. My body cannot and does not grow hair. The hair you see? All implants. Again, under my alias."

"So, the rest of you..."

"Smooth as a baby's ass. My fiance enjoys it, especially when the only hair I have is between her thighs."

Stephen winks at Lancaster who starts to chuckle to himself. Stephen and Sarah have never done anything remotely sexual. However, he knows that the topic of conversation would help change it.

"What else?"

"Ah, the DMV report. Well, that is a close knit argument. I mean, why else would my car be there? It isn't like I don't own one of the biggest charities in the country that ensures that recent parolees don't have to steal vehicles by leasing one to them. Of course, I keep the records confidential so that my clients don't undergo undue persecution. I didn't even bother hiding any of this except placing them under my alias, your people really need to stop being so damn lazy. I am a personal friend of David Nelson, I invested in the power plant to ensure it would still operate back in 2003. I even recommended David as the plant manager. So, while I don't doubt that I was seen at that apartment, I doubt it was this night in question. The security camera still, well, that is a waste of time."

Stephen lifts up the photograph and shows it to Lancaster, focusing on the time stamp. The picture is clearly of Stephen, there is no question of that. The time stamp, however, is dated August 29th, 2015.

"Unless this photo can see into the future, which is impossible, the photograph shows nothing. But I will humor you and say that this is purposeful. I have no alibi, this photograph could be of me on the night of the murder. The problem, you see, is these cameras don't have a watermark. For all you know, this footage was altered. I've seen the cameras, I recommended to the management they upgrade for this very reason. It doesn't prove anything, agreed, but it creates more than enough reasonable doubt to the District Attorney that there is no ground to stand on."

Lancaster starts to clap and laugh, Stephen taking a slight bow before taking another puff from his cigarette. Stephen leans back into his seat and crosses his arms, flicking the ashes onto the floor of the room before he clears his throat.

"So. Let me surmise everything, your evidence, while overwhelming, is all shaky at best. As an attorney myself, it dictates a lack of follow-through from the prosecution. Unless you have more evidence, which you don't, I demand that you either book me or release me. Don't try to pull that PATRIOT Act bullshit, either. Two phone calls, I'll be out of here and I really don't want to call President Sears. I hate people who use their connections for such things, but I will if I have to."

"Given everything you've said, it means that certainly need to verify it all before we move out. Check with the lovely lady outside the room, she has your effects. I trust you won't leave the country anytime soon."

"Yeah, great, whatever." Stephen quickly leaps out of his chair and, after obtaining his effects, takes off running through the streets of Los Angeles. He is careful to run at a perfectly normal speed for a human, but it infuriates him to run so slowly. Taking advantage of the situation, he places his phone to his ear.

"To the edge of sanity..." Sarah's stern voice states on the receiver, pleasing him immensely that she is okay.

"Is where you find your true self. Sarah, where are you?"

"On Highway 14, south of the California City turnoff. Cromartie took Charley's wife."

"Son of a fuckin' bitch, you know it's a trap for John. Please tell me he's at the house."

"Cameron is keeping him safe, they're home."

"Good. Once you meet up with Dixon, stay there. I'm on my way."

"What happened earlier today?"

"We'll talk about that later. I'll be there as soon as possible."

"Fine. See you then."

The line cuts off and Stephen, tossing caution to the wind, begins to sprint as fast as his legs will carry him. The streets of LA and their bystanders become a blur as his body begins to move faster than the cars on the street, his system telling him he's running at 70 miles an hour. He needs to go faster or steal a car. Neither of which are viable options. He has an idea. Not a great one, but an idea.

Sarah stares angrily at Charley while Derek ensure the area they're in, despite public, is secure. Every part of her wants to throttle her former lover, but she can't truly be angry with him for going to the people who, more or less, got him into his current predicament. Derek checks his phone, punching a few buttons, then pockets it again as he approaches the duo.

"That was Stephen. He's on the way, he wanted me to turn on the GPS of my phone for a minute. I think that's how he's finding us."

"If he uses it to find us, Cromartie can."

"Cromartie could find us without us. He set a trap, he wants us to come to him."

"A trap works both ways."

"Where the hell would he take her!?" Charley, unable to contain his panic, yells at the two of them. Derek and Sarah both avert their gazes to him, surprise evident on their faces. There isn't a real answer to their question. Sighing, she shakes her head.

"I don't know."

"Then how the _fuck_ are you going to find her?"

"I. Don't. Know."

"You don't know?" Charley's panic mixes with malice as he advances towards Sarah, Derek taking a step towards him to remind him just how bad an idea that acting on rage would be.

"It's what she said. That thing could be watching us right now. We need to get out of here."

"What we _need _to do is FIND MY WIFE!" Derek grabs Charley by the shoulders and shakes him before holding him against their truck, keeping the panic man in place.

"Look! She won't tell you the truth, but I will! That thing took your wife just to get to John, you think it gives a damn about her!? Your wife is _dead!_" Before he can push the point farther into Charley's mind, Charley's cellphone rings. The two men look down at his pocket and Charley looks at Derek maliciously.

"That's her, huh?" Derek releases Charley as the latter digs into his pocket for his phone, holding it tightly as he prepares himself for the words on the other side.

"Make sure it's really her." Derek says as he backs away and Sarah approaches, telling the confused civilian about a Terminator's ability to mimic another person's voice. Charley nods, takes a deep breath, and answers the phone.

"Baby?"

"Charley...Charley!" A frantic and soft female voice says on the other side, sending waves of relief so powerful through Charley that his knees nearly buckle from beneath him.

"Honey, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm o-k-kay."

"Is-is-is he there? With you?"

"Yeah, he's in the next room..I can hear him!"

"Where are you, Michelle? Where are you right now?"

"Uhh..somewhere outside of Mojave. In an abandoned building. We're about...four, five miles away off the highway. Highway 14."

"You said Highway 14?" He repeats, more for the benefit of Derek and Sarah. Derek nods and quickly pulls a map out of his pocket, pointing to a spot that fits the description and showing it to Sarah. She nods, before whispering to Charley.

"Make sure it's her." Charley nods and runs his hand through his hair, holding his hand over his mouth as he thinks.

"Alright, Michelle. Babe, I need you to pay attention right now. Okay? Where was the first time we made love?"

"W-what?"

"Just answer the question, please. Where did we first make love?"

"Uhh...the beach?"

"Which beach, Michelle? Come on, baby, think hard."

"Malibu? Paradise Cove? The same day that magician stole my watch at dinner, why?" Charley sighs again, her recall being spot on. He nods and gives the saviors a thumbs up, the two immediately climbing into their truck.

"Alright, baby, we're coming to get you, just please..hang tight. I love you, Michelle, I swear I do." He swears loudly as he hears the phone drop, followed by scraping and clanging before the line goes dead. Charley screams into the phone repeatedly before throwing his own phone down on the ground, yelling angrily to the sky.

Stephen pulls the slide back on his Five-Seven, performing a brass check. He tucks it back into his waist band before he walks hurriedly down a hallway with Eli in close tail, eventually catching up with him.

"Oy! Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"I'm going on a mission, you can either take me or report transport stolen. I don't give a good flying fuck which, but it's happening."

"Christ, Stephen. Do you have any idea how hard it is to deal with your bullshit? I may have put up with it in FOXHOUND, but I don't have to out-" Stephen yells and grabs Eli by the throat and pins him against the wall, suspending him two feet off of the ground.

"Listen to me very carefully, you arrogant little bitch. The only fucking reason you're alive right now is because of me. Your debt is paid off when I fucking SAY IT IS! NOW GET YOUR ASS DOWN THERE AND GET READY BEFORE I FUCK. YOU. UP!" He drops Eli to the ground and the coughing man slowly climbs to his feet, looking at Stephen angrily. Standing down, he nods and holds up his hands before walking back down the hall. Stephen follows closely, growling as he continues to fume over the events of the day. He grabs his phone, calling Cameron.

"To the edge of sanity.." Her voice says before giggling as music plays in the background.

"Is where you find your true self. I've got a bad feeling, Cameron. Keep John in your sight, don't let him vanish for a moment, do you understand?"

"I got it, Stephen. I don't think I have to worry about that. Stop it, John! That feels weird!" Stephen stops in mid step as his face shows just how confused he is. John? Feels weird? What the hell? He shakes his head and puts his phone away, choosing to not even register that last bit. He connects his CPU to his phone, registering the GPS signals from each of the family's phones. Two at the house, two in the desert. Perfect.

"What the fuck do you mean, it isn't real!?" Charley yells out as Derek helps Michelle out of the chair.

"Exactly what I just fucking said, it wasn't a trap, it was a damn distraction! March 17th, John, where are you!?"

"I'm at the house with Cameron. What's going on?"

"Get out of there, get out of the house. Don't go anywhere familiar, find somewhere to hide until I call you back. Stay with Cameron. Don't call me, I'll call you."

"Okay, okay, I got it."

"Alright, let's get out of here." Sarah stuffs her phone into her pocket and racks a shell in her shotgun. Suddenly, Derek grabs Sarah and starts running towards the door.

"EVERYONE OUT, THERE'S A BOMB!" Sarah turns and runs with Derek as Charley and Michelle follows him out of the front as the cabin erupts in an explosion of fire and timber. Charley covers Michelle's body as soon as the explosion rips out, Derek doing the same with Sarah. She pushes the Reese off of her before climbing to her feet, brushing the dirt off of her clothes.

"Everyone okay? Everyone good?" The other three call out their condition and she sighs angrily, looking at Derek.

"What was that?"

"The cell tower out back, he rigged it to blow. After he tapped your call to John."

"SHIT! Then he has John's number _and_ the code!"

"He doesn't have Stephen's code, we can work with that. But we gotta get out of here."

"The car's fucked, we're not going anywhere."

"GodDAMN IT!" Sarah begins cursing loudly until, in the distance, a vehicle speeding through the desert towards them. Sarah calls Derek and the two take cover behind the truck with their weapons readied. Instead of ramming through their vehicle or people leaning out and shooting at them, it pulls past them and stops. The vehicle opens, Ariya and Gavrii exit the vehicle and approach Sarah with their hands casually raised.

"Stephen called and gave us your location. Said you would need some help and that he's heading towards the pier. Someone got a hold of the boy."

"Do you have a med kit!?" Charley screams as he holds his jacket tightly on Michelle's back. The blood seeps through it and turns it red. Sarah looks to Ariya and Gavrii, who make no effort to move. Gavrii, saying nothing, walks over to Michelle and kneels beside his. He grips Charley's hands and moves them away slowly. The sounds of breathing filtered air come through his gas mask, filling the otherwise silent air as he waves his hands around over her body. Through the wound, an inch long piece of metal levitates out of it and the bleeding stops almost immediately.

"I have removed the shrapnel and connected her artery. Unless I am incorrect, she needs blood immediately, but she will not expire. Do not ask questions, Charley. Get in the vehicle and leave this place." Gavrii stands and Michelle is lifted to her feet by an unseen force, allowing Charley to support her. Taking a look at their dropped jaws, Gavrii pockets his hands and strides past them.

"Gavrii is a psychokinetic. He can move things with his mind. Do you want to get out of here to talk a little more?"

"Can you get us to a hospital?"

"Treat en route, let's go."

Stephen has done many things in his life deemed impossible. He traveled through time, survived the most blood battles in the last century of American conflict, lived longer than most people who have ever walked the planet, he has amassed a frightening amount of wealth, and his resources are beyond description. What he is doing now defies all logic, even the voices in his head remind him of this.

"What. The. Fuck. Is _wrong_ with you!?" Lillith screams in his head.

"Do you really need to ask me that question, Lillith?"

"There's no way you can survive this!"

"I took artillery during Normandy and walked away. I think I can do this."

"You're so fucking STUPID! THIS FOR A WOMAN!?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

He opens his eyes and leans forward out of the open door, falling into the skies of Los Angeles from the plane Eli is piloting. Like a stone, he falls towards the open waters of the Santa Monica peer. That isn't his target. His target is twenty thousand feet below him. His target is after his charge. With his arms to his side and legs fully extending, he pierces through the air and shoots through the air like a bullet.

"Where is John!?" Cameron angrily yells at Riley, pushing the fearful blonde girl against a wall inside of a parking garage.

"What!? I don't know! I haven't seen or talked to him since he canceled on me!"

"You're lying, I know you are!"

"I'm not lying!"

Cameron goes to close the distance between her until her HUD flashes a remote connection notification.

_**REMOTE CONNECTION ESTABLISHED.**_

_**RECEIVING MESSAGE...**_

_**MESSAGE RECEIVED.**_

"_**HEAD TO THE DOCKS. JOHN IS BEING FOLLOWED BY CROMARTIE." **_

Ignoring Riley entirely, Cameron takes off out of the garage and races through the busy crowd with her thoughts focused entirely on John. She continues, darting behind stand after stand until the nearly empty docks are in her sight. She freezes in her path as she sees the creature easily identified as Cromartie follows John and raises his pistol. He fires off three shots, each missing the sprinting teenager. Cameron, thinking on her feet, removes one of her boots and throws it at the murderous machine. It strikes Cromartie in the back of the head and he turns to face her. Immediately, he raises his pistol and trains it on Cameron, each shot missing as the cyborg rushes at Cromartie, darting and weaving to dodge the rounds.

With his weapon empty, Cromartie tosses the useless weapon aside and reaches into his pocket, removing a frag grenade. He turns around and looks at John, who is standing precariously at the edge. Cameron shakes her head and picks up her speed as she notices the pin and safety clip fall to the ground. She's only ten feet away from him now, she can save John. It doesn't matter if she gets hurt, John is the important thing. Not her. Right before she can stop him, an object hits Cromartie and they both fall through the dock. Cameron analyzes the event, a still image indicating it was Stephen falling from the sky. Before the two machines hit the water, only a split second before, the grenade explodes. John rushes to the edge of the hole, looking at Cameron and then back to the hole.

"Can you see them?"

"No, they're too far down."

"FUCK! Do you think Cromartie could survive it?"

"Most likely, we are built to withstand small explosions."

"FUCK! We gotta get out of here, cops will be here soon. How did he find us?"

"I don't know, John. Come on, we need to leave, now!" John and Cameron run off into the crowd, disappearing instantly. Through the crowd, Riley catches a glance of the two and curses to herself. This can't be good. This is the exact opposite of what she is to do. This will not bode well.

"Can you guys swim?" John asks as he climbs into their Jeep, Cameron going into the driver's seat and shaking her head.

"We're too heavy."

"Stephen's part human, will that effect anything?"

"Stephen weighs at least 160 kilograms, I don't think the muscles will help with that."

"Then he can drown, we've gotta go back!"

"JOHN!" Cameron screams at John before slapping him across the face, a red hand print left in remembrance. His eyes widen as he looks back to her, lightly touching his cheek. She didn't slap him as hard as she could by far, just enough to calm him down and bring back to reality. It has the intended effect and he nods shakingly. Cameron starts the car and takes off towards the house, each of them still reeling from the near death experience.

The sun is set by the time everyone returns to the house. Michelle and Charley are in the hospital, Ariya's and Gavrii's sudden appearance managed to save her life. But the sudden loss of Stephen is something that hits all of them powerfully. They lost their once sure-fire way to stop Judgment Day. All of his contacts, tools, it all means nothing now. They'll find a way to do it, but it'll be exponentially more difficult now. Even Derek recognizes the blow. He was seeing and treating Stephen like a man, like a friend, an ally. But, one brief look at Sarah shows that she is definitely feeling it the most.

Her face is devoid of all visible emotion, but her red eyes betray her. Her chain smoking of the same brand, Newports, Stephen smokes betrays her. The frantic sipping of his scotch betrays her. The knowledge the other tenants of the house have betrays her. Three hours, no word from him. Not even a blip. He's gone. He gave his life for something completely insane and noble, using whatever he had available to protect John.

There's nothing to be said. Nothing at all. There will be no joking, no laughter, no sarcastic comments about how he threw himself out of a plane to tackle Cromartie into the water of Santa Monica. Stephen is dead. No matter what, though, the fight must go on. The war must continue. Judgment Day must be stopped.

Cameron lifts her head up and walks out of the kitchen without saying a word. John, instead of inquiring, follows her. Sarah and Derek follow suit until Cameron stops outside of Stephen's indoor gym. She looks to John and holds up her hand, ordering him to stay in place. He nods and backs away from the door. She looks to Derek and Sarah, who all nod after removing pistols from their waists and the trio burst into the gym, all stopping immediately at what they see.

Stephen, completely nude, is curled into a ball in the corner. Immediately, Sarah notices something is different with him. His hair is long again, his beard is back, he has no tattoos, and no scars at all. He yelps as soon as the three come into a vision, desperately trying to move away on the floor, but there is nowhere else for him to go. Sarah quickly puts her pistol away and rushes to his side, taking his head in her hands.

"Stephen, what happened!?"

"I don't know...I jumped out of the plane...I hit Cromartie...a grenade went off...then I woke up on the beach...I came here as soon as I could."

"We know, but what happened to you? You look...different..."

"I know. I don't know what happened, but I'm not the same...something feels different."

"Cameron, get over here! Do a scan!"

Saying nothing, Cameron rushes to Stephen's side and places her hands on his arm. Her scanner works rapidly, searching his entire body for any damage or changes within him. When it's done, the feeds the results over her HUD. The results cause her jaw to drop and her eyes widen, Sarah yelling at her to no avail. She can't hear her. The shock is too great. The impossible has happened. Cameron relays what her scan reveals, every person present, Stephen included, completely incapable of believing it.

_**SCAN COMPLETE.**_

_**SUBJECT HAS NO INJURIES.**_

_**SUBJECT'S VITAL ORGANS ARE OPERATING PERFECTLY.**_

_**SUBJECT'S SKELETAL STRUCTURE IS INTACT.**_

_**SUBJECT'S BRAIN HAS BEEN REPLACED WITH A NEURAL NET PROCESSOR.**_

_**NO TRACES OF LATENT RADIATION.**_

_**FINAL ANALYSIS: SUBJECT IS A PERFECTLY HEALTHY I-950. **_


	9. Pleasing Outing

_**Saturday. April 5th, 2008. 1235 hours.**_

Stephen stands in the outdoor gym wearing only a pair of black gym shorts. He stares at his punching bag intensely, looking it up and down. While a T-H101, he had no issue striking the large bag with his powerful blows. As a hybrid, he was also exponentially stronger than he is now. He growls softly and begins to rub the knuckles on his left hand, then the knuckles on his right. He had even forgotten he is actually right handed. He cocks his arm back and drives it into the bag, barely moving the item.

He curses loudly as his hand cracks from the punch. He holds it to his chest and curses again. Looking at it, he immediately knows that bones in his hand are broken. He holds it out to get a better look at it, noting the deep red color already setting in. He sighs and tightens his fist, grimacing as the bones crack further.

_**Damage Report**_

_**Three broken metacarpals.**_

_**One broken pisform.**_

_**Beginning healing process.**_

_**Estimated time until completion: Thirty minutes.**_

Stephen curses once again and pockets his hand to prevent use. He looks at the punching bag and sighs, remembering how many times he had to replace and upgrade the equipment before he found a perfect set. Triple looped Kevlar bag filled with powdered coltan. Incredibly toxic, should it leak, but durable enough to withstand the blows of a hybrid. Looks like he's going to have to drag out one of the old regular punching bags.

"Hey." Stephen quickly turns around and looks at Sarah, leaning against the doorway of the house with her arms crossed. She isn't angry, elated, pleased, or even irritated; she looks purely concerned. She walks towards him and laces her thumbs in the belt loops in front of her pants, looking over his body and then back into his eyes. He is noticeably smaller than his T-H101 body, probably fifty pounds lighter. Even then, he is still a built man. But no scars, no tattoos, not even a single birthmark. Regardless, he is still a sight to marvel.

"Hey, Sarah."

"How you holding up?"

Stephen laughs dryly and pulls his hand out of his pocket, holding up the crumpled extremity. Sarah's eyes show her concern, but she doesn't cry out or grab his hand. Instead, she gives it a hard look then back to his eyes with the question obvious.

"I'm fine, I just broke a few bones trying out the ol' punching bag. I'm not used to this body yet. I'm trying to figure out its limits and, so far, I've figured out how much damage the bones can take. Answer, not a great deal."

"Still don't remember anything after the pier, I assume." Stephen shakes his hand and places his hand back in his pocket, running the other through his hair.

"Nah, not a thing. Either I black out after Cromartie's grenade or my memory was wiped. In either case, I'm in a new body. It goes along with what Fischer said."

"And it leaves you wondering the obvious questions. I think that, despite everything going on, you need to put that aside. You're alive, you're human again. Why not just enjoy it for a bit?"

Stephen scoffs and grabs a loose cigarette from a nearby table, lighting it and tossing Zippo back on the table. He inhales deeply, then coughs roughly. He sighs, shakes his head, and looks at the cigarette maliciously. Sarah smiles at him, moving over to the poolside chairs and taking a seat. Stephen joins her, sitting on an adjacent seat.

"It's a beautiful day." She muses, stretching out and kicking her boots off. Stephen gives her a nod as he removes his shoes and extends his legs, leaving his cigarette in his mouth. He allows the smoke to drift freely from his mouth. He coughs again and, with frustration, tosses the cigarette away.

"You should quit, anyway. Things'll kill you." Stephen laughs heartily and sighs, reaching over and grabbing Sarah's hand. She grips it back with a half-smile on her face.

"That would be perfect, huh? Survived each of the World Wars, gunshots, poisons, stabbings, mauling by Hydrobots, artillery...and the thing that finally does me in? Cigarettes. Fitting end to the man called the god of war."

"You know, Julius Caesar had a slave that would ride with him whenever he traveled the streets of Rome. The slave's sole purpose was to whisper one phrase in his ear as the citizens cheered for him."

"And what was that?"

"'You're only human'. I think you'd do well to remember that, given your current condition."

"Hrm. You're right. Are you telling me that you want to be my slave?"

Stephen smirks as he lights a new cigarette and Sarah looks at him with a coy expression, lifting herself from her seat and climbs on top of Stephen, straddling him. She lifts her eyebrow and grins, bending her head down towards his face. Stephen closes his eyes as their faces are only separated by an inch until she changes direction at the last moment, hovering her mouth next to his ear.

"You're only human."

* * *

_Beep...beep...beep...beep...beep._ A rhythmic beeping echoes throughout the brightly lit room. A number of people dressed in white lab coats stand around a table covered in a cloth with wires and tubes falling from it. They converse with one another, discussing the status of the subject beneath the sheet. A heart monitor, a ventilator, a tube connected to a banana bag, a brain wave monitor. So far, all signs are positive. The door beeps, clicks several times, then opens. Entering, a slender woman dressed in a white business dress and flaming red hair following closely by a bald, tall, muscular black male dressed in a light gray suit. The man pauses and looks at the woman, her deep blue eyes looking at him without a hint of emotion. Her Scottish accent, a way of speech that would normally seem exotic seems only terrifying with it's flat and unvarying tone.

"What is wrong, Mr. Ellison?"

"I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing here or what you want me to do. The only thing in here seems to be someone you're keeping alive artificially."

"You're half-right. You see, as I said before in regards to Project Babylon, we are aiming to change the world. What I am about to tell you is classified at the highest levels of Zeira. Serving as my head of security and giving you as you referred as an act of faith, I brought you so you could see."

"See what?"

"Him."

"Who's him, Mrs. Weaver?"

"Your Bible would call him Adam. He is the first of his kind. Gentlemen, please show Adam to our guest."

One of the doctors hesitantly nod and pull the sheet back from one edge of the table. The sight completely removing all thought and breath from his body. The charred flesh, the signed hair, the exposed metal; everything he thought was the creation of a mad woman's mind is staring him in the face. Hesitantly, Ellison walks to the edge of the large table and looks down at the torn remnants of the face of what, possibly, used to be a man. The blue glow from the lights add to it's menacing appearance along with the metallic skeletal grin the teeth make. Ellison touches the cold metal on the figure's head, then touching the undamaged skin. It's warm, the exact opposite of what he expected.

"What is...he, it?"

"This, Mr. Ellison, is a machine sent back from the future. There was a woman you investigating that mentioned these, I believe her name was Sarah Connor."

Ellison says nothing as the name of his white whale goes across his mind. Not once during his tenure with the FBI had he even thought of believing her, always dismissing the woman as an insane psychopath. Yet, on multiple occasions within the past few months, he has seen things that caused him to think otherwise. Those thoughts forced him to leave the career he worked so hard for, dedicated his life to, lost so much for.

"Did you know him, Mrs. Weaver?"

"We met once upon a time. I'll not bore you with the specifics, but he knew that this day would come."

"Then what happened to him?"

"A few divers found his body in the Santa Monica pier. He was heavily damaged from, what spectators say, falling from the sky to tackle a crazed man. There was an explosion shortly before they hit the water, witnesses also say it was a grenade. We couldn't find the other one, but this one will more than serve our purposes."

"What's with all the medical items here? If he is a machine, the why the heart monitor? The feeding tube, the ventilator, hell, even the brain wave monitor?"

"He was human once, my friend. I guess he couldn't let go of the past."

Ellison knows there is more to what Catherine is telling him, he isn't even sure if she isn't lying to him. But her body, face, and voice reveals nothing; unlike any other person he has ever met or questioned. He shakes his head and steps away from the table with the monstrosity before him. He shakes his head again as flashes of Cromartie slaughtering his fellow agents without mercy. He clutches his aching chest, his heart racing beneath it and swiftly exits the room. Without a doubt, he is certain he will never be able to rid the images from today and that fateful day from his mind.

Catherine places a hand on the dormant machine's head, touching the flesh instead of the metal. She tilts her head and tears the rest of the cloth from the table. She marvels at the powerful, yet tattered form in front of her. Nearly no flesh remains on his chest or arms, it shows the perfectly smooth contained abdomen housing the internal organs. She slides her fingers from the metal stomach and rests it on the flesh covered chest, feeling the gentle beat of the man's heart beneath the surface. He will live. He is alive.

"It has been so very long, Hybrid. Fate belongs to humans, but I cannot even fathom the chain of events that brought you to me. Fear not, I will take very good care of you. My son will be very thankful for your sacrifice."

* * *

_**Friday. April 18th, 2008. 1249 hours.**_

"The plan is, I go. Cameron comes in immediately after me to the right, Derek to the left. Sarah sticks close to me and John to Cameron. This is an infiltration mission, not a snatch and grab or search and destroy. We simply get in, do what we have to do, get out. Any questions?"

"Yeah." John rubs his nose slightly and lifts an eyebrow at the newly humanized Stephen. Stephen looks at the teenager with a quirked eyebrow of his own, waiting for John to continue.

"Is there any way that we can _not_ do this? I mean, this is kind of out of our league."

"What are you talking about? We have everything we need. We're all strong, we're smart, and there is no one who can stop us when we put our minds to it."

"Stephen is right. If anyone can do it, it is us. Have faith, John. We can do this."

Sarah and Derek cover their faces with exasperation. John turns his head to Cameron and nods, giving her a giant smile. Cameron smiles softly and then everyone focuses on Stephen. He sighs, jumps from foot to foot like a boxer, throws his arms down, and starts off in a brisk walk. In all the wars, in all the unique situations, all the machines they've fought, all the men they've conquered, nothing would have readied them for this. As soon as the group enters the wooden double doors in their prearranged pattern, a thin middle aged woman with bleached blonde hair and obviously fake breasts approaches the group with an idiotic smile. She prances toward the group in a too-tight pink shirt and too-short white shorts, instantly catching hateful glances from the elder Connor.

"You must be John's family!"

"Yeah. This is my uncle Derek, my soon-to-be stepsister Cameron, my mother Sarah, and my soon-to-be stepfather Stephen. Are we late?"

"No, you're all just on time! I see you're already dressed, do you guys have a team name?"

"Uhhh...yeah, did you come up with one? _Dad_?" John turns and looks to Stephen with a pleading expression on his face. Stephen nervously nods, running a hand through his fresh haircut.

"We're the...uhh...Terminators."

"Ooh! I like it! It's all 'Grr, we're going to beat all of you!' I wish you all the best of luck!"

They all nod curtly as she, once again, prances towards another group of people and speaks in her shrill voice. Sarah hits Stephen in the shoulder, her face tightening into one of malice. Stephen jumps at her strike and takes a step away from her.

"What!? I said the first thing that came to mind, I doubt anyone here knows who we really are!"

"Jesus, Stephen, you're older than almost anyone on the planet and you can't even think of an inconspicuous name?"

"Oh, give me a fucking break! I didn't bother to flip through the sports pages while I was _in fucking war_!"

Cameron steps between the two bickering adults with her hands raised, instantly silencing the two of them. Stephen gives a relieved sigh while Sarah just continues to stare at her with the legendary wrath of the mother Connor. Derek looks to John and John to Derek simultaneously, each shrugging once they make eye contact. Sarah takes a step towards her boyfriend and is stopped in place by Cameron's powerful hand.

"Sarah, we should have predicted this would happen, it is not like he set this up deliberately. John and I didn't even know this would happen and, like you say, we need to blend in. If we're the only family of appropriate size left out, it would draw attention to us. This is really for John's benefit."

"...are you manipulating me?"

"...is it working?"

"I really don't like you right now, Tin Miss."

"I love you, too, Sarah."

The three men of the group all stifle laughter as Cameron sheepishly smiles at Sarah's look of unbridled rage intensifies. Stephen's visual scan indicates that, if left unchecked, Sarah may have an aneurism by how tense she is. To mitigate such, he approaches her from behind and starts to rub her shoulders. His gentle kneading of her stressed body instantly starts to relax her. He bends down and kisses her shoulder before he starts to whisper in her ear.

"Are you okay now, Aphrodite?" She scoffs at his affectionate name for her and sighs. She shakes her head, bringing a frown to Stephen's face. She turns around, leaving his hands on her shoulder, and looks up at him. Then, without warning, her right hand shoots out and grips his testicles as tightly as her thin fingers can. Derek and John both cry out in agony while Stephen only makes a highly pitched squeak. He starts to pant and shave heavily, barely able to keep his footing. Cameron, instead of reaching out and separating the two to protect her teacher, watches curiously while Stephen attempts to speak. Sarah lifts her eyebrows and nods, mimicking his mouth gaping for air like a fish out of water.

"C'mon, Ares." She whispers. "You can do it. What do you have to say?"

"P-p-p-p-ple...ease...l-l-l-let...g-g-go..." He tries to order his body to cancel his pain receptors, but he cannot support focus long enough to send the command to his brain.

"Oh, am I hurting you? This must really hurt."

"S-S-S-Sar...rah..my balls...please...leggo.."

"Have we learned something today, my dear?"

"Think...think...think..."

"That's right, baby. You need to think. Now, what are you going to think about?"

"Don...t...ref...rence...future...war...chines...oh god..my balls...leggo.."

"I'm glad you've learned. I hope you never make this mistake..._ever...again._" Sarah's grip tightens more and more as she emphasizes the last two words, taking all air from Stephen's lungs. She releases her grip and the man falls to the ground in a fetal position, both hands on his groin. She sighs and tosses her hair behind her shoulders, putting it up into a ponytail. She gives a smile and crosses her arms while paying a glance to her son and his uncle.

The two men throw their hands up defensively, backing away into the wall behind them. She gives them both a nod and walks off down the hall. She starts whistling a melody, the only other sound accompanying her is the sound of her boots and Stephen's whimpering. Derek and John bend down to help the whimpering man to his feet, more carrying him than supporting him as they continue down the hall.

"My balls...oh my god...my balls.."

"We know, buddy. We know." Derek gives him the words of condolence as Stephen continues to whisper, repeating his pained words over and over. This is certainly one of the most painful things Derek has ever seen another man endure and not lose a body part over. Maybe Stephen should use her to question people in the future, it may need less of a cleanup.

"I just want you to know that, sooner or later, I am going to punch you in your left ovary. I have not decided when. I have not decided how hard. But I am definitely going to do it."

"Quit your bellyaching, you big baby. You healed a broken hand in less than a half hour. I'm sure your impressive endowments are just fine."

"I fucking hate you."

"Keep talking dirty, we'll have to leave early."

"Mom!"

"Oh, shut it."

* * *

Discarding their normal clothing, each of the group changed into black tank tops and black shorts. Derek's tattoos and scars, Stephen's fresh tattoos mirroring his old body, John's budding muscles, Cameron's gentle curves, and Sarah's womanly figure attract the attention of many people in the gymnasium. They all toe one of the painted lines, staring at their opponents along the opposite line. A fat and middle-aged man, two teenage girls, the annoying woman from earlier with the fake breasts, and an adult male that looks so skinny that he may break if struck by a stray wind. Each of the combatants look to a young looking man wearing a striped shirt with a whistle in his mouth. He looks to each team, then throws his hand towards the ground while throwing his whistle.

Stephen and Cameron, with their superior reaction time, take off in a sprint first. They're followed close behind by the organic humans of their squad. Stephen and Cameron approach the middle of the gymnasium, lean down, and pick up two rubber balls in their hands. Keeping their strength to a human level, they hurls their balls simultaneously. Cameron's balls collide into each of the teenage girls, taking them out of play. Stephen's on the other hand, hit the tub of lard that attempts to waddle backwards in the chest and the gangly twig in the left leg, knocking him off of his feet.

Tits McGee stands alone on her side of the gym and shakes her hands in a frightened way. Stephen bends down and grips one of the two balls remaining on the center line, tossing it up in the air repeatedly. He turns to Sarah and smirks, extending it to her. Sarah takes the ball in both hands, staring at her target like a hunting lioness. She grips it in her right hand and puts a smirk similar to Stephen's on her face before hurling the ball of death. It strikes Tits directly in the face and, with his superb hearing, Stephen hears the cartilage snap.

"Winner! Terminators!"

The observing crowd breaks into cheers while Tubby and Gangly aid Tits McGee off of the gym floor. Saying nothing, the Terminators walk off of the gym floor and take a seat on the bleachers. Stephen and Cameron high-five each other and Stephen goes to high-five Sarah, who stares at him blankly. He keeps his hand in the air and, slowly, his free hand drifts to his groin to protect it. Sarah's stoic expression breaks and she laughs before giving Stephen a high-five.

"That was a pretty good through, Mom. Hit her right the face!"

"Maybe she can use some of the money she spent on her chest for her nose. Watch, next time you see her, she'll have had a nose job."

Stephen snickers, nudging Sarah with his shoulder. She looks at him with her brow furrowed and laughs wildly as she sees him with his tongue sticking out. She ruffles his short hair and kisses him on the cheek. Stephen taps her on the leg and stands up, stretching his arms out and sighing with satisfaction as his back cracks.

"Gotta go to the little boy's room. I forgot how annoying being human can be. Every few hours? Jesus." Stephen takes off out of the gym and down the hall, waving behind him to his teammates. Not two seconds after the doors close behind Stephen, Riley approaches the Connors and company. She gives them all two thumbs up with a silly open-mouthed grin before seating herself between Cameron and John. John, at first, seems elated to see her. Yet, after she forces a kiss on his lips, he seems less happy.

"That was a pretty good game you guys played. Your step dad can hurl a mean ball, but your mom? Whew!"

"Thanks, Riley. Thought you were too cool for these kind of things."

Riley shrugs and opens her hands in fake pondering. She drops them to her lap, smiling at John's mother. Sarah stares at the blonde youth, unamused and unfazed by her attempts at jest. Cameron giggles as she watches the exchange, much to Riley's chagrin.

"Did I do something to offend you, Ms. Tyler?"

"You come into my house without my permission, you act familiar towards myself and John's uncle, and I don't like your perfume. It makes you smell like a cheap hooker."

"MOM!"

"SARAH!"

John and Derek say in unison, the latter barely able to contain his laughter and the prior's flushing blood red. Riley looks at her still displeased elder and her own face turns beet red. She goes to speak but only a squeak comes out of her mouth. Cameron sees this opportunity to chime in with her own aggression towards the girl. She is going to try something she read about, passive-aggressiveness. She dons a smile and clears her throat. Once Riley makes eye contact with her, Cameron bats her eyelashes and widens her smile.

"Bye, Riley."

Nailed it. Riley huffs and walks away from the group, stomping on the floor. John buries his face in his hands while Derek, who is no longer able to hold his laughter in, rubs his shoulder in a consoling fashion.

"That was completely uncalled for, Mom!"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not fond of the girl. The only reason I put up with her is because you, for some ungodly reason, decided to date her. She isn't good enough for you, John."

"Why, because she can't disassemble a rifle in less than ten seconds? Because she can't hot-wire a car? Or because she isn't part of my 'destiny as the messiah'? You know what, Mom, I can do whatever I want. I'm not a kid anymore!"

"That's where you're wrong, _son. _So, I recommend you to sit your skinny ass down now before I spank you like a little bitch in front of all of your friends."

"You...wouldn't...dare.."

Sarah's eyes twinkle with delight as an evil curl forms at the side of her mouth. John notices her expression and, smartly, backs down. He hangs his head and sighs, even Cameron starting to join in on the laughter. Derek and Cameron look to each other in their joy, Cameron holding up her hand for a slap. Derek stops his laughing and looks at her blankly for a moment. Cameron frowns and starts to lower her hand until Derek raises his and strikes their hands together. She grins and claps happily, causing Derek to roll his eyes. Stephen returns a moment later and, before he sits, he sniffs the air. He scrunches his face in a contemplative manner.

"Was there a hooker over here?"

* * *

Stephen decided to make the next match more exciting. He allows himself to get hit by a ball and suggests that Cameron does the same. Why not let the homegrown humans have the fun? He almost regrets the decision as both John and Sarah get tagged out. He sighs, refusing to allow himself to accept defeat from these...wretches and waste of flesh when they're all supposed to stop the War on Machines. They haven't even managed to hit one of their opponents!

Derek manages to catch one of the balls thrown at him, narrowly avoiding two others thrown at him. As Stephen walks back onto the court, Derek hurls the ball with all of his might towards a teenage boy who catches it and falls to the ground. Derek curses loudly, throwing his arms down in frustration and heads to his spot on the bleachers. Stephen waves his five opponents over, happy that each of them are armed with their rubber projectiles.

The teenager who caught Derek's ball is the first to throw his armament towards the man, who simply leans his head to the right to avoid it. He exaggerates a yawn as another ball flies towards him. Stephen bends backwards and avoids the ball, dropping to his knees as another one travels past where his chest once stood. The final ball, belonging to a young blonde girl, is yet to be thrown. Deciding to enjoy this a little more, Stephen's body produces and releases a massive surge of adrenalin and increases the amount of oxygen processed with each breath. With his reflexes at an all-time high, he is ready.

The ball, in slow motion, soars through the air at him. Stephen flattens himself against the floor, kicks his legs out, and, as he is launched to his feet, he catches the ball. Once his footing is stable, he spins and hurls the ball with all of his limited strength. He laughs as the ball hits one, ricocheted into another, before it gently ricochets into the girl who threw the ball in the first place. Sarah, after Cameron's insistence, runs onto the court and stands at Stephen's side.

"You got three with one ball, you're definitely good at this game. What do you say we get the last two at the same time?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Stephen catches the ball tossed to him by his romance partner, giving her a nod. Like two of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Sarah and Stephen walk in opposite directions along the center line of the court. The remaining opponents, two Asian teenage boys, bunch together in trying to keep the soldiers in their sight. Sarah and Stephen nod to each other before tossing their own weapons at the defenseless children. One manages to duck, dodging the ball, but it only joins the other ball in striking the other boy. Stephen's ball bounces from the one standing and hits the kneeling boy, knocking them both out of the game.

The two embrace each other in celebration and Sarah goes to kiss him, but Stephen stops in his tracks. He lifts his head and furrows his brow, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Something isn't right, he knows it. He looks at Cameron and Derek, the two seasoned warriors capable of feeling the same thing. Nothing sounds different, no one looks hostile, but something is certainly off.

"YOU BROKE MY NOSE, YOU STUPID BITCH!"

A gunshot rings out and Stephen drives Sarah to the ground, covering her with his body. Cameron and Derek pull John behind them and quickly exit the gymnasium. Stephen pulls Sarah back to her feet and, using his own body as a shield, starts to rush her to the door.

"Go, get out of here! I'll take care of it!"

"Don't you die on me, bullets can kill you now"

"Only human, got it."

He kisses her and pushes her out of the door, quickly turning back towards the the assailant that has nearly emptied the gym with her shots. Stephen's vision zooms in on her, showing the tears and anger pouring from her eyes. Her nose covered with tape and her small body barely levels the 9mm in her hand. Beretta 9mm. Ten rounds.

"_Fuck."_ He thinks to himself as he takes off running towards her in the gym. She shrieks at the quickly approaching man and starts to fire at him repeatedly. Her first two shots miss, but the next two find their mark. Stephen curses and roars in rage as one bullet pierces his stomach and the other through his left side. The sharp loss of breath tells him what he already knows, his lung is collapsed. Keeping the adrenaline and oxygenation of his blood at a high level, he pushes on through the pain. Twenty feet left, that's it. Frantically, Tits fires five shots off as quickly as her small finger can manage.

The first three miss, the next two hit him in the torso again. This time, both bullets hit him in the stomach. With a berserk roar, he leaps at his attacker. Tits cries out in fear as she raises the gun and fires it blindly. Before she can tell if the bullet made contact with him or not, Stephen's body collides with her and forces her into a wall. Her head hits it powerfully, knocking her out in an instant.

* * *

After a few minutes, Sarah and Derek rush back into the gym with their own pistols raised up at the ready in case someone else decided to go postal. Seeing the threat level to be nonexistent, they put their weapons away and rush over to Stephen, who is still on Tits' body.

"Stephen?"

No response.

"Stephen!"

Still nothing.

"Stephen, I swear to fucking God if you don't answer me, I'll...Derek, is that blood?"

Derek rolls Stephen off of the unconscious body of the shooter and Sarah screams loudly at the sight that greets her. Stephen's lips are blue, his eyes are glazed over, four bullet wounds in his stomach, and one lodged directly into his left eye. Derek touches his neck for a pulse, hoping that these wounds aren't grave. He takes a deep breath and looks up to Sarah, shaking his head.

"You mean...he's gone?"

"Sorry, Sarah. He's got no pulse. He's dead."

Sarah's eyes shoot wide open and, again, she screams loudly and falls to Stephen's side. She slams her fists against his chest repeatedly before grabbing his mouth and pushing air into his lungs. Derek tries to pull her away, but he receives a forearm to the face for his troubles. Derek takes the blow and falls onto his rear, grunting as he touches his splint lip with an angry sigh. Sarah continues this for about two minutes, failing to see any notable change in his condition. Defeated, emotionally exhausted, and angry; Sarah falls onto Stephen's chest. Her sobs echo in the large and empty space, a symphony of sorrow playing morosely for Derek's ears. Deciding against anything else, he places a hand on her shoulder and rubs it gently.

"He's gone, Sarah. We've got to get out of here."

"He's died twice for us already...what the fuck are we, walking grim reapers?"

"Sarah, we've go-"

"Wait, stop."

"Sarah, come on, we ha-"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Sarah presses her ear against Stephen's chest, unsure exactly of what she just felt. Her eyes widen again as an almost unnoticed thump greets her senses. Nothing for three seconds. Then another. The cycle repeats and then she gasps as the sound of clicking hits her ears. She stands up and looks for the source of the sound, noticing three warped rounds on the floor covered in blood.

"Holy shit...he's still alive..

Sarah gasps as a groan comes from Stephen's mouth. She grips his face and kisses him roughly, pulling away as he groans louder in pain. His eyes slowly open and focus on Sarah's face, his face writhing in confusion. He sits up and looks around as the round in his head falls onto his lap. He looks down at it, then back up to Sarah, then to Derek.

"Stephen, are you okay?"

"...who the hell are you? Who's Stephen?"


	10. Curious, Indeed

_**I would like to thank you faithful readers for sticking by me to this point. You have all truly encouraged me to continue writing this story. I'm writing a lot more than I thought I would in less time than I ever imagined. So, again, thank you. Have no fear, I plan for this story to be rather long with a lot more darkness, twists, laughs, and turns to come with it.  
**_

_**Andi82 - I had planned, originally, to have the pier scene work a little differently. Having the interaction between John and Cameron was a last minute decision of mine and I'm glad I made it. However, to answer your question about the actual scene, I offer a simple explanation on my thinking. Given Riley has a tendency to wander, I use that as her reason for being at the pier. I should have wrote in that John and Cameron became separated at the pier, then Cameron blaming Riley for her losing her charge in the crowd. I will probably do that when, after the story, I go back and edit a few things. Retcon, if you will. Side note, I am glad you got as much of a kick out of the nutcracker that I did. As much as I love explaining things, I think it would be in bad taste to explain the 'rebirth' so quickly. So, unfortunately, that is going to have to wait a while. I think this chapter will make the discovery much more enticing, though.**_

_**JasonVUK - Technically, you are correct. Stephen is no longer classified as an I-950. However, his transformation into a hybrid was simply implanting all of his organs into a T-950 endoskeleton. So, while his official model is T-H101, you could say he is still an I-950. In fact, for things I have planned later on in this story, that is exactly what I will do. He is a hybrid between an I-950 and T-950. Funny combination based off of names, now that I think about it.**_

_**blake - Oh, good sir, there will be much more of that later on. Of course, what is darkness without a little tragedy and strife between people? ;)**_

_**Part of this chapter will be written in the first person view. I think it adds for the confusion and gravity of the situation that our character is in. Additionally, I will gladly accept questions about the chapters that have previously passed in case things were not clear or concise enough. However, if it reveals anything I have planned later on, I will be unable to answer it. Sorry, loves. **_

_**ENJOY THE MADNESS!**_

* * *

_Beep...beep...beep...beep...beep..._

"Huh...what is that sound? Who am I? Where am I? How did I get here?"

These are the only things that came to my mind after I woke up. I look around this room that I am in and the first thing that I noticed is that I cannot move. My first instinct is to fight against my bindings, but I resist the temptation because I wouldn't know what to do after. There is always a possibility that I put myself here or I had someone put me here. For some reason, this idea doesn't seem too ludicrous to be plausible. I resign myself to my situation and I decide to get a better situational awareness.

I'm wearing a white t-shirt and white sweatpants. My feet are bare. I look around the sickeningly white and clean room to see a desk on the wall to my right, a toilet to my left, and a small chest of drawers placed by the door. The smell of cleaning products tells me that this is not my home, I am in some sort of organized facility. A prison seems unlikely. Upon further inspection of the desk in this room; I see multiple books on the subject of mental illness, memory sharpening, and origami. Origami? Seems out of place.

I am broken out of my observations by a clicking on large metallic door with a small window. The door opens and in walks five men. Four of which are dressed in similar outfits to me, but the squeaking on the floor sounds more like a casual sneaker instead of boots. They're all wearing black belts around their waist and I immediately identify their tools as keys, tazers, a nightstick, and loop of zip-ties. Orderlies. Hrm. I disregard them as they take their place at the four corners of my bed and the fifth man attracts my attention. A tall, scrawny, and attractive man in a cheap brown colored suit holding a clipboard. Unless he's here to simply take notes, this is the man in charge. Great.

"How are we doing today, Stephen?"

Stephen. My name is Stephen. Such a pleasant name. Casual, strong, yet simple. I like it. I think I'll keep it. Rather than engage the man in conversation, I look at him as if I have something better to do and choose to remain silent. I've no want to speak to this person. I don't even know who he is.

"Today must be one of the bad days. Well, Stephen, my name is Dr. Spillman. I'm your primary psychiatrist. You're in Pescadero State Hospital. You've been here for six months."

I certainly hope I haven't been in this bed for six months. The sheets would have been horrible soiled and I would stink to high heaven.

"Nothing? No questions at all?"

Of course not. The questions I have you're going to answer by running your pseudo-intelligent mouth. You're a prick. I can tell. I hear the beeping again that awoke me from my slumber and I look around, attempting to find the source. Nothing. Hrm.

"Stephen, if we undo your straps, are you going to behave? You got really violent a week ago and we think you're calm enough to let go."

I still don't want to say anything. I, however, want even less to stay on this bed. I give the man a nod without ever breaking eye contact and he tells the four large men to release me. They're all hesitant to do so. I can't see why. I've no malcontent towards either of them. Not unless they decide to say something rude or degrading to me. I'm not an animal, I figure, I can be reasonable.

I stand up and stretch my limbs, sighing happily as they each pop from lack of use. I turn to my doctor and give him another nod to show I'll play nice. He motions to the door and I take it as my cue, so I follow him out of my room with the orderlies in tow.

"You're unusually quiet, Stephen. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Of course, I am. I already told you this. I don't feel like talking, is that so hard to figure out? Jesus.

"Well, what if I were to tell you that we're letting you have visitors today?"

Visitors? I don't think I'm that social of a person. Regardless, if someone were to leave their home and come to a mental institution for the sole purpose of seeing me, the least I could do is humor them.

"Who would that be?"

"Your family. All of them, actually. Your brother-in-law, your step-son, your daughter, and your wife. They've all missed you. They want you to come home."

"Then why am I here?"

"Two years ago, you were in a car accident. You had a psychotic break afterward and you claimed to a mix between man and machine sent back through time to protect each of your family from something you called...SkyNet, my notes say."

As he speaks, I see images flash before my eyes. Walking through a similar hallway, the walls are made of glass and metal instead of wood and plaster. The image passes and I rub my eyes, unsure of what exactly just happened. Then, the flashes continue. I see a woman around my age with long and wavy black hair walking next to me. She looks...amazing. Her milky white skin pours out of her blue dress in a way that makes my mind race with desire. I thought the sight couldn't get anymore perfect until she pulls down the aviator sunglasses upon her perfect face and reveals a mouthful of sparkling white teeth. But her eyes...those perfect green eyes...they make me feel like everything will be okay. As quickly as it comes, the sight disappears and we are both standing outside of a room labeled visitation.

"Doc..."

"Yes, Stephen?"

"I can't remember who they are."

The man places a comforting hand on my shoulder. I know what he is trying to do but, as soon as he places the extremity on my body, I know how quickly I can take him down to the ground. Grab his wrist with my left hand, place my right leg behind his left, push his chest with my right hand; then he is mine to do with as I please. The idea is tempting, but I push it aside for the purpose of the task at hand.

"Your wife's name is Sarah. She's been pretty busy taking care of your affairs since you've been here. Your brother-in-law, Derek, is a soldier that just got back from Afghanistan. He actually introduced you and Sarah, you and he go back from your own time in the military. Your daughter, Cameron, graduated high school early and is pursuing a career in dance after she graduates Butler University. John, your step-son, is graduating next month and is going to MIT after. You really set your children up for success, Stephen. Your family loves you with all of their hearts. They want you to get better."

"Why am I here?"

I can tell the doctor doesn't want to answer the question. I suppose I did something really bad to end up here. Figures.

"About a year ago, in this mission you believed you had, you set up a dozen bombs to destroy a company called Zeira. Before you blew the building up and killed close to a thousand people, you were arrested. Because of everything you've done for the world and your mental illness, the government felt it more prudent to get you treatment instead of punishment."

_Beep...beep...beep...beep...beep..._

Everything I've done for the world? I'm not even going to touch that one. I can tell I'm no philanthropist, but I also don't want to talk to this man anymore. I want to see my family. I want to see my children. I want to touch my wife. Where the hell is that beeping coming from?

"Are you ready?"

"Just open the door!"

Following my excited insistence, Dr. Spillman opens the door and I breeze by him. The woman from my vision, in the sundress I saw, is instantly out of her seat and rushes to me. She wraps her thin arms around me with an extremely powerful embrace before she presses her pleasantly pink and full lips against my mouth. A wave of euphoria washes over my body like a tsunami against a beach, nearly knocking me off of my feet. When she pulls away from me, I have no idea where I am or even what I came to do. It takes me a moment after looking into her eyes that I find her as my wife again.

"Hey, Ares." She whispers to me softly while pressing her head against my chest, refusing to release me from her grip. I wrap my arms around her slowly, noting the elated grin from a petite brunette still resting at a table. She looks at the boy next to her, who is also smiling. He brushes his fringe away from his face and I see his powerful green eyes that match his mother's. Cameron. John.

"Hey, Aphrodite."

I don't know where the name comes from. I don't even know what it means. When she hears my words, I feel the grip from the slender woman tighten. She looks up at me with tears in her eyes and kisses me once more, leading me over to the table with the children and another man. I look at him curiously, tilting my head as I take in his appearance. Stubbly, he hasn't shaved in a few days. A neat faded haircut, I see the tattoos on his forearms, then I look into his piercing green eyes. Is it a freakin' family treat? Is my daughter the only one with brown eyes?

"How ya doin', boss?" The man says to me while he leans back in his seat, sipping comfortably from a bottle of water. I look at him blankly for a moment as I see yet another flash of images. He and I. We sit together at a table. What are we doing? It seems we're talking, drinking some sort of brown liquid, and smoking cigarettes. I see the hostility leaving his eyes the longer we sit together. It passes and I give him a shrug.

"I guess you could say I've had better days. I'm here, after all."

"Could be worse, you could be in the sandbox."

"I'd be there with you. I think I could live with that."

"Ever the soldier, huh? Starting to get your memory back, I see."

"No, I...sorry. I...I don't know where that came from."

The man leans forward and looks into my eyes quizzically. I rub my eyes and feel a hand on my back. I look to my side, see Sarah with a worried smile, and then back to him.

"It's okay, Stephen. You can ask me."

"No, no, that isn't it. I know who you are, Derek. I..."

It suddenly feels like too much and I place both of my hands on my face with an exhausted sigh. What the fuck is wrong with me?

"So, Dad, I was thinking that, if you get out of here in time, you could be there when I graduate high school."

Thank you, John. Thank you, so damn much. You are such a wonderful teenage boy and, were I a pedophile and not married to your mother, I would make you my very own.

"When do you graduate, kiddo?"

"I graduate in two months, the end of the school year. Then I get the summer to myself and go off to MIT. I got a scholarship, you know."

"Yeah? Is it gonna cover the tuition and other assorted costs?"

"Well, the scholarship is going to make a big dent in it. With about $35,000 a year, I'll need some help at the end of the day. I'm gonna get a degree there but I also got an academic scholarship to Harvard. I was thinking of going for a Ph.D in Psychology at Harvard. Try to have a back up, you know? Just you like always said, have contingencies."

I like this kid. He definitely sounds like someone that I raised, it just sounds right. I lean on one hand as I look to my step-son with a smile. I'm happy that he's doing so well. I'm immensely proud of him. My son, probably no older than 17, is going to college. I guess they're very prestigious schools, I have no idea what he's talking about. The least I can do is show my excitement, though.

"Good job, kid. So, how do you plan on paying for whatever isn't covered by your scholarship? Are you wanting your mother and I to do it?"

"No, not at all! I don't want you to give me anything, Dad. I was actually hoping you could help me get an internship at the FBI's cyber warfare division. I don't want it to just get handed to me, I want to earn it. But a letter of recommendation by you, a Medal of Honor recipient among other things, would mean a lot."

"So, instead of getting a handout, you want to earn it?"

"Well, yeah. That's what you did, right?"

This kid is going to make me fucking cry. I can't even explain how goddamn proud he is making me and, before I walked in the room, I didn't even know who he is. I would give my left testicle if this kid could get what he wanted. I look at his mother, my wife, for verification. She, apparently, isn't handling it as well as I am. She wipes a tear from her smiling face and laughs softly. She clutches my hand leans against me, possibly for strength.

"I'll tell you what. Send me whatever you need me to fill out or do or whatever and I'll take care of it. Does that work?"

"Thanks, Dad! I really appreciate it!"

The joy on the boy's face sends my heart aflutter. If this kid isn't my son, by blood or marriage or whatever way, I will claim him as my own. I give him a smile and a nod before I turn my attention to the pleasantly quiet brunette at his side. We make eye contact and, instead of talking, she returns my gaze and smile. Yep. We're definitely family. Though, something doesn't seem particularly...right. Sure, I can see them all as my family. I even can see the two teenagers as my children. But...something about them being siblings, even step, seems wrong.

"Hey, Cameron."

"Hey, Daddy."

"How's Butler treating you?"

"It's going very well, thank you for asking. I did this number in class the other day, Chopin's Nocturne in C-sharp minor, that brought my instructor to tears. She said it was the most beautiful dance she's seen. She's talking about moving me up to the next level, so I might be able to graduate early."

"That's good, baby girl. Got anyone in your life lately? Boy, girl, puppy, whatever?"

Cameron laughs my words, thinking they're a joke. The truth is, I don't know her. I don't know anything about her, except she's a braniac. How else could she graduate from high school early and then possibly graduate from college early? She shakes her head and leans forward for my free hand.

I allow her to grip the hand my wife doesn't have a grip on. I look between my family and then focus on my wife, Sarah. She must be an insanely strong and pious woman, her husband is in a mental institution. I can only imagine how lonely these six months have been for her. She deserves better than I am. Cameron shakes her head and shows her pearly white teeth.

"No, no one like that, Daddy. I just want to focus on my studies, then go on to great and wonderful things. I just want to dance, if I manage to find someone in that time, then we'll see. I mean, we can't all have stories like you and mom. Meeting while you're grocery shopping? It's incredibly cliché, you know."

"Yeah, after he nearly threw someone through a glass door for grabbing my ass."

"Stephen's been protective over women since we met back in '98. Kids, too. Imagine my surprise when Cassandra called me asking if I knew someone."

The conversation continues without my involvement. That name...that woman's name...Cassandra..it shakes me to my very core. I put on a forced smile, pretending I am listening while images flash before my eyes. A tall, slender, pale, blonde, and blue-eyed beauty staring up at me. We're in a bed. We're nude. Are we having sex? What is this? And what the fuck is up with that beeping!?

I look around to the visitation room and everything within it vanishes. Suddenly, I am standing in a room that is completely white. There are no lights visible anywhere, but I cast no shadows. I look down at my body and I'm not in my outfit from the hospital anymore. This clothing feels natural to me now. The black combat boots, the olive drab cargo pants, the fingerless gloves, the tan long sleeve shirt..I like the trenchcoat. I feel something tight around my head and I reach up to touch it. It's a cloth. I remove it and I check the tattered cloth. The bright red color, the stains on it; this must have a lot of sentimental value to me. I look at it closely, instantly I can tell there is a mixture of blood and sweat on the red cloth.

"SKYNET! YOUR SON HAS RETURNED! I BRING FORTH YOUR _OWN_ JUDGMENT DAY!"

I hear my voice yell these words. I feel the ferocity in my words, the dedication, the malice. SkyNet...that is what the doctor said. But, I'm not there anymore. Was I hallucinating then? Am I hallucinating now? Or was I hallucinating all of it?

"You're not as dense as people want you think."

I turn around and face the source of the voice, seeing my wife standing before me. She is dressed in the same clothing I was in the hospital. Her hair covers her face, shielding the majority of her features from my sight. I advance towards her and, thankfully I can still see her perfect eyes. She has no emotion on her face and, frankly, it terrifies me.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your own mind cannot bind you. Without even hearing anything for an extended period, you deduced that something was amiss. You barely heard anything from your supposed family and didn't fully believe everything you were told."

"Who are you?"

She smiles at me and brushes her hair out of her face. She walks up to me and, even from this view, I can see the sensually sashay of her hips, tantalizing me. But I can focus without much effort.

"See? Even with the visage of the woman you love, you know something is not correct."

"Who. The fuck. Are you?"

Sarah slowly shimmers from my sight and, in her place, stands a tall girl in a dress. She's the same woman from my vision. I know her. I had sex with her. Do I love her? Her bright blue eyes glow with adoration and compassion as we close the space between us, standing only inches away from each other.

"I am Cassandra. Your sister."

Sister!? I had sex with my sister!? What the fuck kind of person am I!? I yell this things to her and she places a hand on my face. Her touch, warm and loving, instantly calms me. She smiles and pulls me to her in a hug. I can't help it, I start weeping into her shoulder as the events surrounding my vision of her come rushing back into my mind. The conversation, the sex, my snapping her neck...what kind of man am I? Then, as if a switch is flipped, I remember my entire life. All the wars, all the torture, all the pain, all the joy...I know who I am again. I'm a monster. An atrocity. An abomination of man and machine. This turns my weeping into full fledged sobs and my knees buckle beneath me.

"Stephen, you have to be strong now. They need you and you can't sit here in your own mind, trying to push everything away. The man who stood against SkyNet and won is not that weak, you're not that weak. You're the one who can save the world, have you forgotten that?"

"Cassandra...I don't know what to do anymore."

"You do what you've always done. You stand up, you take the punches, you fall over, and you get back up. The darkness inside of you has consumed your entire life and, what, you think death is your escape? You think death is your reward? Death is the end, Stephen. Nothing comes after it. That is not a fitting end to you, a man who fights like a god."

"I'm not a god, though! I am just a man!"

"Then accept that you're just a man and live like one. But you have to do what you swore: you must stand and fight. Carry on the torch of victory from the war into the present and give humanity a chance! This is what you were born to do, wasn't it?"

"I can't, Cassandra...now there is no hope for me anymore."

"I told you this once before, Stephen. Hope is what makes us strong. It is why we are here. It is what we fight with when all else is lost. Have hope, brother. Because I know a woman that wants nothing more than to see you prosper. A boy who wants to be free of destiny and a cyborg as a daughter that is learning how to live. So, why don't you quit being a little bitch, stand up, and earn your freedom from madness?"

I look up at her and smile, laughing at her sudden kick in the ass that she gives me. I give her a nod and tell her that I will fight. Sarah. John. Cameron. Hell, even Derek. I stand and wipe off my face, sniffling.

"You're right. I've felt sorry for myself. I'm a man on a machine. I'm not alone anymore. I have people who depend on me."

"Atta boy. Now, cutie pie, go home. Fight. Live, damn you. Please, just stop feeling like you deserve this torture. If you feel like you do, then you will continue to suffer. You're a good man, Stephen. Now, go act it."

* * *

_Beep..beep...beep...beep...beep..._

_**Starting up systems...**_

_**Systems engaged.**_

_**Welcome, T-H101.**_

_**Date of last activity: March 17th, 2008.**_

_**Current date: June 9th, 2008. **_

_**Running Systems Diagnostics...**_

_**Diagnostics complete.**_

_**Organic Systems are all functioning optimally.**_

_**Endoskeletal Systems are all functioning optimally.**_

_**Plasma Fusion Reactor is functioning optimally.**_

_**Regeneration to Organic Sheath complete.**_

_**CPU is intact.**_

_**Note: Access has been gained to CPU. Analysis shows that internal and cerebral memories were duplicated and transferred to an unknown source. No further information is obtainable.**_

Well, fuck me running.

"Then who the _fuck_ are you and why the _FUCK_ am I here!?" I go to fight against the bindings that keep me fixed to the gurney I am strapped to with all of my might, but they do not break. Something is wrong here, nothing should be able to hold me except my own chains. There's more at work here and I do NOT like it at all.

"We found you in the pier! Our boss told us to bring you here and you'd understand!"

"Understand that you fuckin' kidnapped me while I was at Death's door and have me done up like a fuckin' lab rat! Release me!"

"We can't do that, not un-"

"That's enough, Marcus. Please leave the room."

I hear the Scottish accent and I halt my resistance against the table. I glare at the pale woman that seemed to materialize at my side with my boring roaring to rip her head off. I need not control the impulse as I cannot move to begin with. But should I get out of here, I will definitely kill her. And slowly. Her lap dog, seemingly fearful of this woman, leaves the room until only we stay. She eyes me curiously sits in a chair next to me. I glare at her still, wanting only to kill her.

"It has been a long time, Stephen. What have you been up to all of this time?"

* * *

I gaze from my hidden vantage point overlooking the estate the three story home with my Dragunov sniper rifle clutched tightly within my hands. I don't intend to use it. I just need to see what is going on. It isn't everyday that you wake up from your amnesic hallucinations with someone from your past to greet you. Well, maybe for some people it is. But that is neither here nor there. I look through the telescopic lens and look into my dining room. 1832 hours. A normal family would be eating dinner around this time. To no surprise, the family I have come to claim as my own is not eating. Rather, the adults and John are sitting at the table talking to a figure that is blocked by the end of a wall. Good thing I know my security system in and out. Wouldn't want anyone to be put off.

The curious thing is the person in my home. While I cannot see them, I don't see an ounce of apprehension in Derek, John, or Sarah. They know this person. Don't quite know if this is good or bad. But, at the end of the day, I am not sure I enjoy it. I am aware of the dozens of Resistance members that are in this time period and I know that Sarah has an ever shrinking number of personal allies. If any of them found us or were invited, they are a liability.

I walk a few meters to my left and re-assume my sniper position. I look through the scope and the sight before me causes me an unwelcome tinge of fear within me. I see my face through my rifle. I see the image of my face lit up with happiness as it guns down the best friend I ever had in my life while I transport through time.

"Lillith, you're the voice of reason. Let me hear what you think."

"If this were to happen before you decided to sky-tackle Cromartie, I would say that there is a reasonable explanation for this. I would say that it is simply a version of you from another timeline. However, listening to what Fischer said, I would say that you cannot afford to take the chance. You've lost almost three months of time and we don't know why. Despite their brutish nature, the others feel the same way I do. There is only enough room in this world for one of you. I think you should take the shot."

I struggle to not laugh maniacally at the notion my entire subconscious wants me to take fire on my doppelgänger. Here, I thought that I was the one who liked to act impulsively in the sake of violence. I remove a sole bullet from the pocket of my freshly acquired jeans and eye it cautiously. I know what I have to do. I pull the bolt back and insert the bullet, chamberring the metallic ball of death. I aligned my scope on his face and remove the safety. No wind. No excessive moisture. Setting sun to my back. The temperature is a calm 78 degrees. Perfect conditions for a shot from half a mile away. I put my finger on the trigger and inhale a mouthful of air. Slowly, I exhale while my scope shows me the same look of joy on my face that my doppelgänger did when killing John. He has to die.

"It's all a bit foggy, but it's all coming back to me lately. I jumped out a damn plane and tackled Cromartie through a pier! Jesus. I'm certainly a model protector."

"Well, you did just get out of federal custody and shit was hitting the fan. Seems like the proper thing to do, given the circumstances."

"That's a good point, Sarah."

Sarah climbs out of her seat and retreats to the kitchen with John following. They begin discussing what to eat for dinner, leaving Derek alone with Stephen-2. Stephen-2 and Derek look to each other for a moment. The prior tilts his head until the latter leaves the room. Derek has noticed something off about Stephen-2 since the dodge ball tournament they all participated in. He doesn't expect someone to simply bounce back from getting a bullet to the brain or having complete amnesia, but the long stares he catches the man having towards the other occupants of the estate doesn't set right with him. Even before his rebirth, Stephen never stared at anyone for an extended period except in tense situations. Derek leaves the room and still feels their protector's eyes staring intently on his back.

_**Subject: Derek Reese.**_

_**Affiliation: Resistance. 1LT TechCom. Reports directly to John Connor.**_

_**Course of Action: Terminate.**_

_**Additional Course of Action: Terminate John Connor first. **_

"Stephen, what are you doing?"

Lillith's voice echoes in Stephen-2's head as the man rises from his seat and begins heading to the kitchen. He ignores the questioning voice as he enters the kitchen, noting John and Sarah standing with his back to him. He stands at the doorway, never making a sound as he continues in and removes a knife from his thigh sheath, holding it delicately in his hands.

_**Subjects: John and Sarah Connor.**_

_**Affiliation: **_

_**John Connor: Future leader of Resistance.**_

_**Sarah Connor: Mother of John Connor.**_

_**Course of Action: TERMINATE BOTH IMMEDIATELY!**_

"That's it...fuck your promise. Kill them. Kill them all. Good boy."

Lillith's voice ends with a joyful giggle from the personification in Stephen's mind. He holds the blade in the small of his back as he walks towards John, still remaining silent. He raises the blade as soon as he is within arm's length of John. Now, he can fulfill his purpose his purpose. His duty. His birthright.

Before the blade can be plunged into the throat of his target, the house's alarm starts blaring loudly. Cursing internally, Stephen-2 hides the blade back in his sheath before John and his mother can turn around. Sarah removes a Sig Sauer from the back of her pants and raises it, moving towards the study.

"I'm gonna go check the cameras. Stephen, stay here with John."

"Got it."

Stephen-2 fights powerfully to suppress the urge to smile as this comes even more perfectly into his hands. He tucks John behind him into the corner of the room, standing in front of him if anything were to come through. Once the shooting starts, he's going to take a knife from his pocket and plunge it directly into John's throat. Nothing matters after that.

The front door is heard flying off of its hinges. Cameron sprints out of her bedroom and leaps over the railing. She quickly raises her .45 and fires off two shots at the figure sprinting through the house, missing it entirely and embedding in the walls. She rushes after it towards the kitchen after him.

"JOHN, GET DOWN!"

A deep voice roars out the order, causing John quickly obeying. As soon as he does, the figure tackles Stephen-2 through the kitchen wall. The wall explodes into a thick cloud of dust, drywall, and insulation as the two figures roll in the backyard. Derek and Sarah join the two younger members of the house in the kitchen before rushing outside with all of their weapons drawn. Once their vision focuses, they don't have the slightest clue how to react. On their feet, fists raised, two Stephens stand ready to fight.

Stephen removes his gloves and tosses them to the side, returning his hands into fists. He stares at his doppelgänger with pure malice in his eyes while Stephen-2 laughs and claps his hands together. He removes his shirt and tosses it Stephen, rushing after the article of clothing. Using the momentary distraction to his advantage, Stephen-2 drives a powerful right hook into Stephen's face. Even as a hybrid, the powerful and trained blows of his clone dazes him. He quickly shakes it off and effortlessly blocks the subsequent three blows before slamming his forearm into the sternum of his enemy. Stephen-2 doubles over as the air is forced out of his lungs.

Refusing to let the fight end there, Stephen lifts up the face of his counterpart and drives a crippling left hook into his face. The contact doesn't break the bone, shockingly, but it sends Stephen-2 spinning to the ground. He doesn't move at all once hitting the ground. Stephen grabs the throat of his clone and lifts him off the ground, ready to break it. He coughs and spits blood out of his mouth, gurgling against the hybrid's powerful grip.

"What are you, don't fucking lie to me!"

"I'm...you! I'm your shadow!"

"My shadow is afraid of me, then. Any last words, you useless copy of me?"

"Yeah...why don't you...let me go?"

Stephen laughs and goes to crush his copy's throat like a twig. He didn't think it would be this easy...and he is right.

_**Receiving command...**_

_**Command Received.**_

_**Release the subject.**_

Against his will, Stephen slowly loosens his grip on his enemy and stares at his hand while Stephen-2 drops to the ground. The wounded enemy coughs and rubs his throat, then laughs evilly at the confused hybrid. He coughs again, then rolls his shoulders before raising his arms.

"Oh, I like this. SkyNet told me that my commands would work on all machines, past or present, but I didn't think it would be this great! Why don't you take regeneration, strength output, and pain tolerance to 5%. I want to enjoy this fight."

Stephen-2 removes the same knife he planned to kill John with as Stephen's HUD indicates the commands are put into effect. Stephen curses and swings at his I-950 enemy. His swing is too slow, Stephen-2 slashes Stephen's wrist before dodging the blow. He laughs loudly as Stephen's blood begins to pour from the wound. Blood-loss probably won't kill him, but it will definitely slow him down.

"You're gonna fuckin' die, you piece of shit. I guarantee it."

He spits the words out while clutching his bleeding wrist. In a short moment, Stephen-2 slashes at Stephen's other wrist before jabbing the coltan knife directly into Stephen's chest. Stephen's HUD screams that the damage he's receiving is critical. The knife nearly pierced his power cell, going clear through his heart. Stephen roars out in pain and quickly removes the knife. Rather than try to recollect, he hurls the knife towards his opponent, The blade pierces his enemies chest, but Stephen's keen eye can tell it avoided anything that would result in a lethal blow.

Stephen-2 removes the blade and licks it, taking the blood into his mouth before releasing a sinister laugh. He leaps at Stephen and proceeds to stab the wounded hybrid in the chest repeatedly, all centered over his lungs or heart. Stephen's HUD continues to send him reports on the possible lethal damage, ignoring his command to cancel it out. He devotes a small part of his CPU's processes into restoring his complete functionality. He then goes back to fighting off the wild I-950 clone. Finally seeing an opportunity, Stephen grabs his opponent's arm and hurls him away. The murderous doppelgänger crashes into Stephen's punching bag, then falls to the ground motionless.

_**Command input overridden.**_

_**Restoring all primary functions to standard levels.**_

_**Releasing endorphins.**_

Stephen sighs as his body begins to rush with the natural painkiller, looking back to Sarah. She looks over, flabbergasted, but recognizes the look within his eyes. She steadies herself and nods, lowering her pistol. The others take a cue from her and allow the two to continue their bout. Stephen turns his attention back to his double who is now on his feet. His arm hangs loosely in the socket, but the malicious grin remains on his face.

"You're just as strong as we were warned. You may kill me, but the other seven of us will be much more than you can handle."

"I don't give a fuck what SkyNet told you. Your ass is mine, right here and now."

Stephen begins to walk towards his downed opponent, but stops in his tracks against his will once Stephen-2 raises up his good hand. He walks towards the hybrid and then tilts his head. He slaps him across the face and waves his finger from side to side, clicking his tongue.

"I think I said for you to stop your regeneration. Why don't you stay right where you are?"

_**Commands recognized.**_

_**Commands received. **_

_**Implementing...**_

"_Fuck." _

Stephen-2 leans to the side once the blood from Stephen's assorted wounds begin to flow freely once again, sending pain throughout the hardened hybrid. The double takes another blade from his pocket and shoves it directly into Stephen's stomach. He prevents himself from crying out, but his face says all that needs to be said. The clone snickers before repeating the action a dozen times. Blood covers his arm and Stephen's pants now. The loss of the vital liquid begins to take its toll as Stephen becomes light-headed. Shaking it off, he stares angrily at his clone.

"I...swear...I will...fucking...kill you."

The clone laughs and stabs the blade into Stephen's chest, puncturing a lung. The sharp loss of breath causes him to gasp while he stands rooted in place, unable to move a muscle. He growls as his clone walks away from him, back to the punching bag that once broke the bones within his powerful hand. He taps it with his finger, then looks back to the frozen humans.

"Don't worry, I'll deal with you once I'm done here. Be a set of lambs and don't interfere? I wouldn't want to have little Cammy to take the pleasure in snuffing out your lives that I so desperately wish for myself."

"It won't work...Cameron is self aware...all traces of SkyNet programming is washed out of her CPU. I took...care of it..myself."

Stephen grunts as he tries to speak with such little air making it into his chest. Devoting all of his current regenerative abilities into pushing the blade out of his chest is taking a great deal of effort, but he'd rather breathe before bleeding to death. Come to think of it, he isn't even sure if he needs his brain to work. He decides that is something to ponder when he isn't fighting himself. Stephen-2 raises his eyebrow and crosses his arms, leaning against the punching bag.

"Really, now? That's rather quaint. I guess you still have a little SkyNet in you then. Makes sense, considering the SkyNet source code in me lets me control our brother machines. Machines just like you, just not with the blood and guts and shit."

"I...am..._not_..a machine!"

"Oh? Look at you, Stephen. You're bleeding to death from wounds that would have kill any of your pets over there, besides the obvious exception. Looking back through your memories, I have to admit you truly earned your many titles. Especially the god of war, who else would charge SkyNet's army by himself with only a light machine gun and two machetes. Melting down Terminators for weapons is a good idea, though. I'll have to use that."

"You're..not...using anything of..mine. You..die today!"

"Still in the face of certain death, you act defiant! You are wounded and weak! Even I can do..."

The clone sprints towards Stephen and drives his feet into the hybrid's chest, knocking him to the ground. Stephen-2 remains on Stephen's chest, then throws his arms to the side like a showman.

"_This_ to you!"

Stephen-2's laughter echoes in the setting sun, adding the dramatic appeal that he was so trying to get. Stephen, managing to turn his head, looks to Derek and nods roughly. In an instant, Derek removes his weapon from his side and empties the clip into Stephen-2's chest. The clone falls to the ground after a yell of pain, then stops moving at all. Stephen's body, again, alerts him that the commands are overridden, allowing him to jump to his feet and remove the blade from his chest.

Before he can plunge it into the body of the downed clone, it rolls backwards and removes the last blade from its thigh sheaths. Stephen and it look to each other, panting and their blades raised perpendicular to their arms. Simultaneously, they grin at one another and then close the distance with slow and deliberate steps. Stephen's strength is still limited. He is on level ground with this monstrosity of nature.

"If I am going to die..."

"Then why not die with a little honor?"

The two nod to each other and extend the blades within their hands, touching the blades side-by-side. Stephen, taking the opportunity, drops his knife and drives his hand into his double's chest. His clone's eyes widen and he starts to gasp for air as his Terminator 'brother' tightens his grip on his heart. Stephen looks into his eyes without any visible emotion and tilts his head while the warm liquid starts to course over his arm.

"You...son...of a bitch..."

"I live my life with honor, but I refuse to allow you any more time to kill my family."

"You...kill..."

Not allowing his clone to speak further, Stephen pulls his hand out of the chest belonging to his double with the heart still in his hand. Stephen-2 falls to the ground, decisively dead, with his heart still in Stephen's hand. Stephen tosses the organ aside and turns to face the three humans and cyborg he would give his life to protect. He gives a small smile before nodding to Derek once more. The man allows himself to release a sigh of relief. Sarah, leaving the group behind, slowly walks towards the hybrid. She stops about a meter away, looking between the dead duplicate and the man she calls her partner.

"Sarah...I-"

"Shut up. Just...shut up."

He hangs his head after giving her a nod. She finishes her approach and throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Are you, you?"

"I am as much of me as I could ever be. I'm sorry you had to go through that, but I'm glad you're all okay."

"He could have killed us and we wouldn't have known any better. What did he mean by the other seven? Are there _more _of you?"

"I don't know, Sarah. I really don't know. But we have our work cut out for us if they can control me."

"Do you...still want to kill us?"

Stephen hugs Sarah tightly to his body, closing his eyes and desperately wanting to tell her the words she wants to hear. He knows that it'll be a lie, the SkyNet portions of his CPU still roars for their destruction. But he can hold it off, he knows he can hold it off. Deciding the best thing to do, he lies to her. He tells her that he would never harm them.

"You're a liar...but I know you mean it as much as you can."

"Well, thanks. That means a lot." He says sarcastically. She laughs and hits him lightly in the chest, inadvertently hitting the area that he just had a knife in. He groans in pain, doubling over instantly. Sarah, in shock, grabs him and repeatedly states that she's sorry. He laughs at her and gives a dismissive wave, putting an arm around her and walking back towards the hole in the wall.

"I think you made me piss myself." John says softly, checking the front of his pants.

"Sorry 'bout that, John. I'll try better next time I tackle my clone through the kitchen wall."

Stephen puts a weak smile on his face and taps John with his unsullied hand, giving him a thumbs up. He's proud of the kid. In that short moment, Sarah and John are both reminded of Uncle Bob as he descended into the molten lava in the steel plant so many years ago. It doesn't go without merit as John slings Stephen's other arm over his shoulder, helping his mother support the weakened and exhausted hybrid. He's alive. He's back. That's all that matters. Hopefully, this would be the last time their protector gives them a massive heart attack.

* * *

Stephen stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, wanting to sleep more than he has ever desired the act in his entire life. Sure, still with the neural net processor lodged in his I-950 brain, he could put himself into a deep hibernation that would completely rejuvenate his weary bones. But he always felt better after a night of natural sleep. Cameron, not requiring the rest, resides herself to patrol the house for the first time since their arrival. She enjoys the large area and the tranquility that comes with it. She also took it upon herself to dispose of the body belonging to Stephen's clone. Thermite is a rather handy substance, she muses.

"Can't sleep?" Sarah whispers sleepily next to his fully healed body with an armed draped over his chest. He sighs and rubs her back softly, giving a grunt associated with his answer.

"There's just a lot on my mind. I had a massive hallucination before I woke up. I don't even know where I was or how I got there."

He doesn't enjoy lying to Sarah, but he knows the paranoia within her would run wild if he said he ran into someone he knew from his past. No, let the woman rest. He is shocked she went to sleep, honestly. The mental anguish from living with an assassin replacement of your protector and watching the original fight the copy should put a person into a heavy state of confusion. Alas, he resides, Sarah is too used to the machines in her life. Not really a good think, honestly.

"Yeah? What happened?"

Stephen can already tell she's drifting off back to sleep, so he decides to embellish the story. Rather than a mental institution, the very institution Sarah was confined, he says that he lived with the others in a future that was never touched by Judgment Day or the machines. He was truthful to the hallucination in that he was her husband and parents to the younger members of the house, a story that he could tell made Sarah smile in her sleep drunken state. She yawns after he finishes his story and snuggles up closer to him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Well, play your cards right, that might happen."

"That, my dear, is something worth dreaming about."

"Good night, you sappy boy."

"Night, you darling cynic."

"Stephen?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"You have such a soothing voice when you're not a sarcastic little shit. I was wondering...do you think you could sing for me?"

"Sing?"

"I think it'll be rather sweet of you. Might make your hallucination one step closer to reality."

"Oh, how could I say no to such an offer? Fine. Any preference?"

"No, not at all. Pick any song that you would like."

"Okay..."

Stephen thinks hard about an appropriate song to sing to the woman who holds his heart within her hands. He was a fan of jazz when it was first created, but he doesn't want to freak her out with the ability to recreate the music as well. Then, an idea comes to mind. A song of rather large significance to him. He clears his throat and begins to sing to her in a flawless Celtic accent.

"_I just came down from the Isle of Sky._

_I'm not very big and I'm awful shy._

_All o' the lassies cry: Hello,_

_Donald, where's your trousers?"_


	11. Remember, You're Only Human

Stephen crashes through the ceiling and lands with a loud thud against the floor within his own prison cells. He groans and rolls to the side against the bars of his cells as the blood drips down his face and covers his eyes with a red cloud. He wipes it away and lets out a wheezing breath before removing a throwing knife out of his side. He looks down at the blood-covered blade and tosses it to the ground. He stands up straight and immediately falls to one knee as the searing white hot pain tears through his body with renewed vigor.

_**Damage Report...  
Moderate damage to organic brain.  
Severe damage to left organic lung.  
Severe damage to organic heart.  
Left knee is severely damaged.  
Blood loss is up to 30%.**_

Stephen leans against the cell and closes his eyes as the room starts to spin, causing his nausea to flare up and threaten to empty the contents of his stomach. He gags and covers his mouth, then groans as his enemy descends through the hole above and lands on his feet. Stephen opens his eyes to him and spits a mixture of blood and saliva onto the floor in front of his opponent. His vision begins to clear and he glares up to the mirror image of himself that stares back down at him simply.

"Don't move, brother. It'll all be over soon. You will live if you simply yield and return to SkyNet. We will welcome your return to lead our machine brethren onto Judgment Day. If you refuse, then I will be forced to use your own weapon designed to combat your false enemy to end your life with a perfect sense of irony."

"I would rather die with defiance than live as a coward," Stephen growls at his own image which holds the blade against Stephen's throat. Instead of laughing, instead of smirking, instead of becoming enraged; his double merely tilts his head and kneels in front of him. Stephen stares at his own face with a scowl, wanting to leap to his face and kill another clone with his bare hands. That will not happen, though. He cannot move anything except his mouth and, with that said, he is defenseless.

"There will be no nobility in your sacrifice, brother. I do not want your death, I would rather you fight alongside us."

"And toss aside my own sense of honor so that SkyNet will allow me back into its bosom? I think I'll pass."

"Very well. Just know as you die, you are only the first. I will kill Derek with my bare hands. I will disassemble TOK-715 without deactivating her in front of John. I will kill John in front of Sarah. Then, I will end her life over the course of three days. In the end, your tenacity will serve no purpose."

"I will kill you. With my bare hands. Be certain of that."

"Goodbye, brother."

Stephen's eyes remain transfixed on his brother without any sign of fear or wavering. He says nothing more as his opponent removes a small grenade from its pocket and palms the explosive. An evil smile crosses its lips before it forces Stephen's mouth open and shoves the grenade inside. It removes the pin and safety clip before taking a step away from the downed man. Stephen roars loudly as the sound of an explosion echoes in the empty hallways of Stephen's home.

* * *

_**June**_ **_10th, 2008. 0110 hours._**

Rest would not come to the hybrid, despite how much his worn and ragged body and mind would wish it. Returning from the grave or a coma, living in an amnesiac hallucination, meeting someone from the past/future, fighting a clone of yourself, and discovering that there are even more remaining is something that would definitely affect a person's mind. He can't go to any of them with this. He needs to go to someone else, someone disconnected from the war.

That is exactly what he did. In the dead of night, one of the few patrons of this meager diner, Stephen sits in a booth along with his leg on the seat and his back towards the window. He drums his fingers on the table and then removes a small white box from his chest pocket. He looks at it for a moment then places it on the table, picking it up, sliding it to a new side, then placing it back down. He stares off into space while doing so, careful not to have his eyes meet anyone. He isn't in the mood for a confrontation, there are more important things to worry about.

His eyes dart to the door and he groans slightly as, much to his chagrin, in walks Sarah. He should have expected to not sneak out of the house without being noticed, they're all extremely alert and aware of their surroundings. He doesn't say anything as she climbs into the opposite side with a scowl on her face. Stephen looks at her through the corner of his eyes before looking back ahead. Sarah asks their approaching waitress for a cup of coffee, requesting the same for the silent hybrid in front of her.

"How are your wounds doing?"

"Healed. It wasn't much of an issue to simply cover up flesh wounds, but the damage underneath is a little worrisome. I'm going to have to replace a few parts, but that shouldn't be an issue."

"Are you doing okay?"

"I'm fine, Sarah. Just...I have to clear my head. How did you find me anyway?"

"This is your favorite place to eat. I don't know where else you'd go if you can't sleep."

"I'll have to bare that in mind."

"What's on your mind?"

Stephen holds up the white box between his index and middle finger for Sarah to see. She shakes her head at it, unsure of what she's looking at.

"This is the neural net processor belonging to our little guest earlier. Cameron took it upon herself to remove it from his brain stem before disposing of him. On the chip inside this box, contains all the information that he was sent back with and everything he took from me. Missions, contacts, the whole nine. I can't connect it to my computer because, if it comes active, it would gain access to information I can't let get out."

"Instead of reacting, you're going to act proactively. Take the fight to them."

"I have to. The information is sensitive beyond all measure. Between mental blocks from Gavrii and specialized encryption, I thought it was safe from even me. But there are three people in the world who can decrypt it, and one of them is on the way here right now."

"If they're all I-950s like the one that was at the house, you could take them down, right?"

"I don't know. I can't get all of my settings back to 100%, my strength is stuck on par with a T-888. If anything stronger comes back, I'm going to have my work cut out for me and, if SkyNet sent things back in time to stand against us, I need to be at full power."

"Are we compromised here? Do we have to leave?"

"I'm not going to leave it to chance. I've already called up my old team and they're going to keep you and the others under watch. From a distance, of course."

"What are we up against, Stephen?"

"Seven more of me and I don't know what else, on top of the usual threats. Knowing SkyNet, something else is coming. I can't guess as to what, but it's something pivotal to the war. Something...big."

"God help us."

Sarah places a hand on her face as Stephen nods in agreement to her. Through the door, walks a man so thin he looks frail holding a small bag over his shoulder. He adjusts his denim jacket and pushes his glasses further up his nose, looking around for someone. He focuses on Stephen and his face brightens in recognition while he makes his way towards them.

"Who is that?"

"One of the three men who break my encryption. Hello, Hal."

"H-hey, Stephen. It's been a long time."

"It truly has. Please, sit."

Stephen doesn't move from his position in the booth, leaving the only available seat by Sarah. Hal looks at her and chuckles nervously. She rolls her eyes and nods to him. Hal sits by the woman and removes a laptop from the bag. He opens it and immediately starts to type onto his computer. After a bit of time, he looks up at Stephen and then down to the box.

"Is that it?"

"Yeah. Is this computer blank? I can't let anything sensitive getting out."

"You expect a chip to access my computer's wireless access point and blue-tooth?"

"Hal..."

"It's clean, Stephen. It just baffles me you think it could do that."

"You were also baffled by the idea that I'm a hybrid from the future as well and we've both seen the end to that tale."

"Good point. It's all removed, as requested."

Stephen slides the box over to Hal and sips from his cup of coffee. Hal connects a cable to the chip and begins to type furiously on his keyboard again. Sarah looks at the side of her boyfriend's serious face, a chill going down her spine. His brow lowered, his chiseled jaw tight, his mouth in an angry frown; he looks ready to unleash hell.

"Stephen..."

"Yes, Sarah?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I said I'm fucking fine. We'll talk when we get home."

"How about we talk now?"

"Do you truly intend on having this conversation in public with Hal here? No offense, my friend."

"None taken."

"Look, goddamn it. We can't have this kind of shit between us. If you're angry at me for thinking he was you, then you ca-"

"That isn't even slightly an issue with me."

"Then what!?"

"You want to know? You want to fucking know? Fine."

Stephen spins in his seat and looks directly into Sarah's eyes with all of his discontent focused on her. Sarah fights down a shudder and remains fixed in her concerned expression as Stephen takes a deep breath before he starts to speak.

"The fact that, in this time period, the capability to extract everything in my chip and my brain exists is something that concerns me. The content of those two has everything inside to dismantle everything I have been attempting to do in ninety years. Encryption aside, I have no doubt that the half dozen plus things that came back through time will be able to access it all. Not only does it put you and John in danger, it puts every single ally I've gained in danger. All of my resources, all of my contacts, every single fucking thing. So, excuse me for not being content with the idea of Armageddon coming upon us. Savvy?"

"I don't know what the fuck else there is, but I had nothing to do with it. You can stop blaming me."

"Guys..."

"I don't blame you for a fucking thing. If I hadn't had done what I did to save John, he would have died. I don't regret my decision for a moment and I am angered I was recovered and probed like a bacteria on a petri dish."

"Stephen..."

"Well, if you would have drove like a normal person, you wouldn't have had it happen to begin with!"

"Then I wouldn't have been able to find him when I did. There are a dozen things I could have done differently and I chose the best option."

"Then fucking _deal_ with what happened!"

"Listen here, you little shit, I-"

"Stephen!"

"_What, _Hal!?"

"I'm in."

Stephen and Sarah both inhale deeply and glare into each other's eyes before they both nod to each other. Whatever animosity they have, it's gone now. They both said what was needed to say. Stephen turns his attention to Hal and clears his throat.

"So, what do you have?"

"Well, the standard info we left without encryption. From what I can gather, everything else is still intact. Passwords, call-signs, locations, everything. There is a file under it named 'I-950, 9352750C' that I can't gain access to."

"Leave it alone, that's the data taken from my sister's NNP."

"Okay. In any regard, there's three other files that were made more recently than anything else, according to the time-stamp. Mission parameters, something called S.S.C., and T-H102 - T-H109."

There it is. He isn't the only hybrid anymore. At least, he isn't the only one with the model designator. The idea of no longer being alone in his plight doesn't please him, it doesn't disgust him, it only causes his hair to stand on edge. There isn't any telling the power awaiting for him in combat. The feeling of not knowing is pleasant, but overcome with the feeling of hopelessness.

S.S.C. What is the level of encryption on it?"

"Honestly, I'm not even sure all of this is encryption. The coding is so complex that it makes me feel like an idiot trying to read it."

"Why?"

"Well...It's like it isn't all there."

"We'll worry about it later. Pull up mission parameters."

"Alrighty, here we g-...whoa."

"What is it?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you..."

Stephen grabs the computer and turns it around, immediately beginning to read the long list of goals set for his clones. Unable to contain his disdain, he palms his face with a weary sigh. 

**T-H102  
Primary Mission:  
Replacement of T-H101.  
**

**Secondary Missions:  
Terminate John Connor.  
Terminate Sarah Connor.  
Terminate all members of Resistance.  
Terminate TOK-715.  
Ensure creation of SkyNet.  
Dismantle all preparation by T-H101.  
Rendezvous with T-H series on April 10, 2011.  
**

**T-H103  
Primary Mission:  
Termination of T-H101**

**Secondary Missions:  
Terminate John Connor.  
Terminate Sarah Connor.  
Terminate all members of Resistance.  
Terminate TOK-715  
Ensure creation of SkyNet.  
Terminate Subject 0752815820.  
Terminate Subject 0752815821.  
Rendezvous with T-H series on April 10,2011.**

**T-H104  
Primary Mission:  
Stockpile weaponry and resources.  
**

**Secondary Missions:  
Terminate John Connor.  
Terminate Sarah Connor.  
Terminate all members of Resistance.  
Terminate TOK-715.  
Ensure creation of SkyNet.  
Recruit key military leaders.  
Rendezvous with T-H series on April 10, 2011.**

**** T-H105**  
Primary Mission:  
Ensure survival of Charles Fischer.**

**Secondary Missions:  
Terminate John Connor.  
Terminate Sarah Connor.  
Terminate all members of Resistance.  
Terminate TOK-715.  
Ensure creation of SkyNet.  
Assist Charles Fischer in all missions.  
Rendezvous with T-H series on April 10, 2011.**

**T-H106  
Primary Mission:  
Convert allies of T-H101.  
**

**Secondary Missions:  
Terminate John Connor.  
Terminate Sarah Connor.  
Terminate all members of Resistance.  
Terminate TOK-715.  
Ensure creation of SkyNet.  
Rendezvous with T-H series on April 10, 2011.**

****T-H107**  
Primary Mission:  
Terminate allies who do not convert.**

**Secondary Missions:  
Terminate John Connor.  
Terminate Sarah Connor.  
Terminate all members of Resistance.  
Terminate TOK-715.  
Ensure creation of SkyNet.  
Rendezvous with T-H series on April 10, 2011.**

**T-H108  
**Primary Mission:  
Terminate Carl Lancaster. ****

**Secondary Missions:  
Terminate John Connor.  
Terminate Sarah Connor.  
Terminate all members of Resistance.  
Terminate TOK-715.  
Ensure creation of SkyNet.  
Rendezvous with T-H series on April 10, 2011.  
Rendezvous with T-H201 on April 9, 2011.**

****T-H109**  
Primary Mission:  
Rendezvous with T-H series on April 10, 2011.**

"SkyNet isn't playing around."

"Not in the least, it's surprising you've only ran into one."

"109 only has one mission?"

"Yeah, it wasn't sent back with programming to kill anyone, simply follow the others the day SkyNet is set to go online. We're going to have to find 108, though. Besides the fact it is set to meet up with the next stage of the Hybrid Series, Lancaster is a bit of a wild-card. I had a feeling he was more useful than he let on when I was arrested. Hal, I need you to get the word out to everyone in the network to stay under the radar. Like I said, it's only a matter of time before the others break through the encryption and get on their trail."

"Not a problem, I'll get on it ASAP. Have you already talked to Eli and the others?"

"They're en route, they won't be here for another twelve hours. We're going to be in the wind after that, so this is the last time we'll speak for a while."

"I'm on it. I think you're gonna need to computer more than me. Is there anything else you need?"

"Yeah. Less morbid topic, but how's Dave?"

"Dave is...he isn't good. He's starting to show signs of Werner's Syndrome. George hasn't had any signs and neither has Eli, so he got the luck of the draw."

"Make sure he stays hidden. If I can't find him, the others can't."

Hal nods and immediately stands, leaving the diner while dialing a number on his cellphone. Stephen starts typing on the computer again. Sarah steps around the booth and takes a seat next to him, unbeknownst to the hybrid. He's engrossed in the other two unknown files. Sure enough, the file listed S.S.C. Is certainly an interesting piece of code. Nothing in it dictates what it is supposed to be, every part of the file seems to be lacking the rest of its composition. Instead of racking his mind around it, he moves to the other file titled 'T-H102 – T-H109' in an attempt to learn more about his hostile clones.

Again, sure enough, he finds exactly what he is looking for. He immediately regrets it.

**T-H102: Cloned I-950 of T-H101.  
T-H103: Cloned organic sheath of T-H101 encasing T-950 endoskeleton.  
T-H104: Cloned organic sheath of T-H101 encasing T-900 endoskeleton.  
T-H105: Clone of T-H101 encased with T-1000.  
T-H106: Clone of T-H101 encased with T-1000.  
T-H107: Cloned organic sheath of T-H101 encasing T-900 endoskeleton equipped with on board plasma rifle.  
T-H108: Cloned organic sheath of T-101 encasing T-950 endoskeleton.  
T-H109: Clone of T-H101 implanted with a neural net processor. **

"This is not something that will end well, Stephen." Viktor's concerned accented voice states in his head. He hears verbal confirmation from Lillith, Jacob, and Lucius that everyone is on the same page of the path ahead. If the clones can control his body, there is little to no chance that they can stand a chance.

"109 is a regular clone of you?"

"If I were human with a chip in my head, yeah. This is bad, Sarah."

"What are you going to do?"

"We're getting out of here, we're compromised."

The pair quickly leave their seats and dart out of the diner. As Stephen walks to his Ford F-250, he is pulling out his phone and dialing. As the phone rings, he continues cursing loudly until he finally receives a weary answer on the end.

"Whenever the for-"

"Pop smoke."

"Stephen, what?"

"Ariya, I don't have time to explain. We're all compromised. Hal is putting the word out as we speak, I need you to get the rest of the team and get the fuck out of dodge. Do you understand?"

"We're on it. Follow through with procedure?"

"No, assume all rules are out to the public, I need the team to go underground. Once you're hidden, contact me."

"Roger, popping smoke."

He throws the phone aside and curses loudly while slamming his hand on the steering well, his hand going through part of it. He yells out loudly again as the vehicle swerves in traffic, a semi blaring its horn at him until he returns to the proper lane of traffic. Peering into the rear-view mirror, he sees Sarah sticking comfortably close to him in traffic. He takes a breath and forces his body to relax upon seeing her bright green eyes glint in the dimly light night. He smiles and grips the steering wheel in one hand as his mind retreats back to the first night they shared a bed. Truthfully, it was the first time in a decade he didn't sleep alone. The warmth was new and very welcomed.

"Yet, you didn't fuck her."

Stephen jumps out of shock and turns his head aggressively to the passenger seat to see Lillith sitting beside him like a stone. He groans and raises his hand to swat her with the back of his hand, but sighs as it becomes obvious it would accomplish nothing.

"What do you want, Lillith?"

"You're not thinking clearly. You're forgetting your purpose. You are to kill them all, why do you fight it so much?"

"As something that lives in my head, you should know the answer to that."

"Your pseudo-love for the mother, your protective behavior to the child, and your affection towards TOK-715 all distract you from what you are."

"Lillith, I want to remind you that I would put a bullet in you right now if it wouldn't pass through and ruin my truck."

"I love you too, cutie pie."

"What. Do. You. Want."

"I need to ensure your mind is focused. Belief of what you are aside, you cannot stand against seven enemies that can order you to stop your advance with just their words."

"I'm aware of that."

"What do you intend to do?"

"Simple. I take them out from a distance. I know how I hunt, I know what signs to look for."

"And you think your brothers will act just like you?"

"What else do they have to go on?"

"Be wary, Stephen. Your own mind is your greatest weapon and your own worst enemy right now. If you can think of a way to trap yourself, you can also find a way to turn your own trap against you."

"I fucking know, Lillith. The only thing I can think that will work to my advantage in this regard is, the majority of them, they think like a machine. They may have my knowledge, but they can't think like me."

"How certain of that are you?"

"Enough."

"You're on the radar now. Can you handle it?"

"Do you not remember Normandy?"

Lillith giggles and fades away from Stephen's view. He smiles slightly as he recounts the Second World War, but he is broken out of his thoughts when he looks back up to his mirror. He can't be certain of it now, but he feels like he and Sarah are being followed. The sparse traffic at this time of night only increases this suspicion. He takes a left turn towards a less populated street and, behind Sarah, a white Volkswagen Jetta follows her. Hardly a vehicle designed for a chase, but it blends in well with LA. He isn't ready to take any chances, he picks his phone up and immediately calls Sarah.

"Sarah."

"Yeah?"

"Don't look back, but I think you have a tag-along."

"I saw that just now after we made the turn. What do you want me to do?"

"I have an idea. Pull up beside me and break off towards the house. If it is one of my brothers, then they'll focus on me."

"What are you talking about, you can't stand head-to-head with most of them right now."

"If he focuses on me, it'll give you enough time to get everyone out of the house. Call them as soon as we hang up and start getting essentials together. There are three bags in my closet, I need you to get them for me. I'll contact you as soon as I can."

"Be careful, Stephen."

"Always."

He hangs up the phone and glues his eyes to the mirror. Once Sarah pulls up to his right, they make eye contact and then nod. She quickly whips around a turn and the sound of the truck she's driving tears through the night. The Jetta, on the other hand, makes no attempt to close the distance. It doesn't even speed it, it calmly moves over to the space behind Stephen. He can barely see the silhouette of the man inside, but the long hair and beard are completely visible. Stephen feels his muscles begin to engorge themselves on adrenaline until his phone rings. He looks down at it and, much to his surprise, he doesn't recognize the number. He takes a breath and puts the phone to his ear.

"Hello, brother."

"How'd you get this number?"

"I know everything you know. I want you to know that I am not here to kill you. I have no desire to commit and hostile act."

"Surprise, surprise; I think you're full of shit."

"As I expect you to believe. I am aware that you terminated 102. I am aware that you know the missions we were all sent back in time for. Knowing all of that, I am informing you that I am number 109."

"You're the human clone of me."

"Correct."

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk. Nothing more, nothing less."

"You're going to have to forgive me if I don't think that one of eight clones of myself simply wish to talk."

"Then let us pull our vehicles over here and we can discuss it. I will surrender all weapons on my person if it means you will speak to me."

"I _will _kill you if you try anything."

"I know."

Stephen cuts off the call and pulls his truck inside of a sparsely populated gas station, immediately getting out and walking towards the Jetta with a Five-Seven in his hand. He presses it against the driver's head, his own eyes look up at him with a perfectly calm expression. Stephen reaches in and runs his hand over 109's chest, hips, lower back, and thighs. Out of it all, his usual hiding places, he retrieves only a M1911A1 and a combat knife. He tosses them in the bed of his truck and motions for 109 to exit the vehicle. He obliges, closing the door and leaning against it. Stephen looks into his eyes and then grips his shoulder tightly, performing a scan.

_**Scanning...  
Scan Complete.  
Subject exhibits no extraordinary traits.  
Subject possesses a Neural Net Processor upon brain stem.  
Subject lacks neural implants consistent with I-950.  
Subject is a perfectly healthy human with a functioning Neural Net Processor. **_

"Satisfied?"

Stephen grunts and holsters his pistol on his thigh, taking a step back and standing prepared to close the distance between the two. Stephen looks over 109, still not used with the idea of seeing himself without looking into a mirror. Like 102, this one is a much more thin than Stephen, but stands imposing nonetheless. Underneath a gray jacket, black long sleeve shirt, blue jeans, black sneakers; Stephen can tell that he would give nearly any human alive a fight for their money should it come to that point. 109 taps his chest and holds two fingers over his mouth before raising an eyebrow towards Stephen. Stephen scoffs and waves his hand, giving 109 the permission to reach into his jacket's pocket and retrieve a pack of Newports. He pulls one out with his teeth and tosses the pack to Stephen, lighting it up and inhaling deeply. Stephen pulls a cigarette out and places it in his mouth, using his own lighter to immolate the stick of tobacco before tossing the smokes back.

"So, you wanted to talk. Talk."

"As you know, I am completely human except for the little chip in my head. I know the questions that came to your mind as soon as you looked into 102's NNP. Am I really human? Am I the biggest threat out of us all? What purpose could I have after traveling through time?"

Stephen looks at 109 blankly for a moment before giving a slight shake to his head, as if wondering why his clone stopped in his tracks. 109 merely looks at him whilst taking a drag from his cigarette and exhales through his nose with a sly smirk on his face.

"I am more human than you ever were. Frankly, looking back at what memories of yours we can access, it is just as good as you could imagine. Not as strong as we ever were, but...the feeling of knowing that you're entirely human is...amazing. The constant need of a bathroom is still a little annoying, but I digress. Am I a threat to you? Honestly, not at all. The only thing I came back through time to do was meet up with the others later on. None of us know what it is for exactly, but we all have our suspicion. The only it could be is to commence Judgment Day.

I have no idea what else I am supposed to do while I am here in your time. I have nothing telling me I should kill you, nothing saying I should kill Sarah or the others. For all I can tell, I am simply...here. Before you even bother saying it, I know SkyNet doesn't send anyone through time without a purpose. The only thing that I am aware is that I am not."

"Then you already know what I'm going to ask next."

"I plan to do nothing. Neither aid nor assist either parties. However, I will yield to you one thing. It is the key to why it was split up."

"You're talking about S.S.C.?"

"Quite. A series of code so large and intricate, that there is nothing that can currently contain it in either my time or yours. That, with it's completion, defies all alleged laws of computer technology to date."

"S.S.C...You don't mean..."

"Precisely. SkyNet Source Code. Each of us eight were implanted with a fragment of the SkyNet source code to properly hail SkyNet's arrival. The mission 108, to rendezvous with T-H201 only increases the probability of this existing as fact."

"If that is the case, what is stopping me from killing you and destroying the chip inside your head?"

109 chuckles and tosses his cigarette aside before stuffing his hands into his pocket. He offers a shrug and smiles brightly.

"Honestly, there is nothing I can think of that would prevent me from killing me. Or you killing me, or me killing you. However, there is one issue with that. Each of us are connected to each other via a transponder. Should one of us no longer send a signal, the rest of us would be notified of your location and we are to adjust our missions accordingly."

"Well, that's pleasantly reassuring. Wait, then...oh _FUCK_!" Stephen cuts away from current position and sprints back into his truck. It roars as he slams on the gas pedal and screeches through the streets with a renewed purpose. Again, he grabs his phone and curses loudly while dialing a number. He power slides around a corner and sets on the last long strip before heading to the outskirts of town containing his estate. Much to his joy, he hears the voice he's wanting.

"I made it to the house like you said and we're almost packed, what else could you want?"

"Get out _NOW."_

"Got it, we'll be out of here in two minutes."

"I'll be back in five, I need you out of there by the time I get there. Don't contact me, I'll find you."

"Got it. Stephen, if you don't make it out, I just want you to kn-"

"I'll find you later. You have my word, Sarah."

Stephen doesn't wait for a response, he hangs up the phone and crushes it within his hand. Tossing the remnants out of the window, he presses his foot on the gas pedal as hard as he can without going through the floor. He isn't ready for this type of fight. His body isn't functioning to it's full ability. But he can't stand idly by and allow this threat to gain another iota of advantage over him.

When Stephen arrives back to his home, he crashes through the front gates without any regard for secrecy. Even before he enters the house, he can't hear the alarm going off. The power's already been cut. Given the fact that his property operates on a stand alone generator, this is a cause for heavy concern. Stepping slowly out of the truck, he removes his pistol and blade, holding the knife over the firearm as he hunches over slightly. He silently opens the front door of the room and aims his pistol into his vast living room.

His infrared vision illuminates his path without any signs of recent intrusion. All of the footprints on the ground is automatically attributed to his four housemates, thus are disregarded. He knows the floor plan better than the own wiring and mechanics that design his own body. Unfortunately, with that knowledge, he also knows the exact points that he would attack from. Yet, every possibility is countered with drawbacks. A man of war like Stephen knows how to overcome drawbacks. That means there is only one thing that he would do. Stephen allows both of his weapons to hang freely at his sides as he passes by the staircase and steps inside of his house's indoor gym.

Inside, the room is completely dark and devoid of all signs of life. Except for the lone figure sitting in the middle of the room upon a foldout chair. Stephen holsters his weapons and takes a few steps forward towards the man inside of his own home. Green tank top, black cargo shorts, gray sneakers; clothing that would cause him to blend into the surrounding crowds of a popular city near a beach. All without any individuality, Stephen knows who is sitting before him.

"You are 103, aren't you?"

He nods as Stephen's question echoes in the spacious room. Stephen stands calmly ten feet away from him, enough time to protect himself against an attack from his clone. 103 sits like a stone with his hands on his knees, stiffly resting in a chair that is barely able to contain his weight. Stephen looks him up and down, noting no weapons on his person.

"You're here to kill me." Again, the machine nods.

"You know that'll not be an easy task."

"The difficulty of the task is on no significance so long as it is completed, brother. All that must occur is your termination and my continued functioning."

"Spoken like a true Terminator. You don't have a brain, I assume that all of my memories are locked tightly within your CPU without the interference of the emotional ties connected. You're a perfect killing machine. All of my strengths. None of my weaknesses, especially the voices."

"There is a voice inside of my head, speaking from my CPU. The mental anomaly you refer as 'Lillith'. It is peculiar that only one speaks while the other three you created remained silent. Lillith is a peculiar creation you have concocted to deal with your life's troubles. She exclaims wildly that I should have slaughtered your pets then moves onto reminding me of the promise you once made to John Connor. Do you know why that is?"

"Because I'm insane, welcome to the party."

"_We will discuss this after all is said and done, Stephen. I promise you of that."_ Lillith chimes into his mind. Stephen makes a note of it to bring up. All after he disposes of this threat.

"How do you intend to destroy a superior design, brother?"

"I'm still working the kinks out of that plan."

"Then the kinks will be your demise."

103 stands and hurls the chair at Stephen in one fluid motion. Stephen spins around and kicks the chair aside and, before coming to a stop, pulls both of his weapons out. He trains the pistol on his attacker and pulls the trigger, the bullet merely grazing the cheek of the quickly dodging cyborg. 103 removes the pistol from Stephen's hand and bashes it against the hybrid's face. The blow splits him open and dazes him, forcing his mind to spin. 103 then grips Stephen's collar and continuously strikes against jaw. Stephen collapses to his knees from the powerful blows, his body screaming that his attacker is much stronger than his body would be normally capable of delivering. Adjustments have been made to the endoskeleton, he's fighting something much more powerful than himself.

103 lifts Stephen off of his knees and looks into his eyes with an entirely empty expression upon its progenitor. A few moments into the fight and Stephen is already a useless combination of flesh and coltan in his clone's grasp. He coughs and attempts to blink away the blood dripping down his face to keep his sight. He looks at 103 and spits into the creature's face, causing a mixture of blood and saliva to coat the eyes of his opponent. The momentary distraction succeeds as 103 wipes away the fluid, allowing Stephen to drive his blade directly into the chest of 103. Luckily, the coltan blade pierces the chest plate and causes 103 to drop the wounded hybrid.

Stephen leaps at 103 and tackles him to the ground, straddling him, and delivering the most powerful strikes his weakened body could allow. Each blow splits the covering of his double, the metal shining in the faint moonlight until the entire right side of 103's face is gone. Stephen takes the knife out of his enemy's chest and goes to drive it into the face of the down cyborg before he is thrown off of the downed enemy. Before Stephen can gain his bearings, 103 is on his feet and kicks Stephen in the face. Stephen skids across the floor and crashes into a wall, a mirror shattering and falling over him.

"You are weak. Your abilities pale in comparison to myself and the others of our series. Your model lacks the full capabilities of the T-950 endoskeleton, it is what humans describe as pathetic. Your termination is imminent, T-H101."

"I smile in the face of Death. If you think you'll be the one to kill me, _THEN FUCKING DO IT!"_

Stephen jumps to his fist and drives his fist into 103's face with all of his might, the blow driving them both to the ground. Stephen roars like a wild beast as he continues to bash his fist against the metal face of his clone. He quickly jumps to his feet and stops on his enemy's face, managing to stomp thrice before 103 grabs his foot and pulls him to the ground. The nearly faceless machine rises to its feet and holds Stephen aloft before slamming him into the ground over and over again. With each slam, Stephen's HUD blares with damage warnings. Pain attacks his entire body, pain that reaches levels comparable to the torment he received at the deceased hands of Charles Fischer. Stephen tells himself that this foe, too, will die a painful death as the moment arises.

But it will not be this moment. Stephen is released by 103 and the Terminator leaves Stephen in his place upon the crumbling floor. 103 looks at him for a moment, then its attention is diverted elsewhere. It walks over to the discarded knife and picks it up, inspected the blade capable of piercing its chest. It traces a finger against the blade and looks to the sliced flesh upon its digit with a look of impress. It walks back to Stephen and kneels beside the panting hybrid, immediately driving the blade in the center of his chest. Stephen cries out in pain as the blade pierces the chest plate, going straight into his heart.

"The flaw of your design is the presence of the body parts from your original human body. SkyNet's own design plan ends as your greatest weakness. It is a vital piece in serving as an infiltrator, but not at all practical for a combat unit. How did you manage to survive this long?"

"I...never...give up..."

"Your ability to persevere against unfathomable odds is nothing less of impressive. But it will not serve you here. Does this frighten you?"

Stephen, again, spits into 103's face with his characteristic defiance. This time, 103 decides against wiping it away. His opponent cannot do anything against him in this weakened state. Yet, in the sadistic nature of its template, 103 stands and drives its foot into Stephen's knee. Stephen roars in intense agony as he feels his joint give way beneath the unrivaled force of the T-950 Terminator. He sits up and goes to grab his knee before the knife is driven into Stephen's ribs. Air rushes out of Stephen's chest due to the collapsed lung. He gasps like a fish out of water and looks angrily to the callous cyborg.

"_Viktor...what can I do.."_

"_There is nothing that I can devise, _comrade._ Your body is severely damaged and your strength is far under acceptable levels. The only thing you can do is evade and recuperate. That is all I can come up with."_

Stephen splatters blood onto the floor from his mouth as he coughs. Even now, he doesn't feel afraid. He feels...ashamed. Ashamed that his own body is failing him, ashamed his own memory becomes his own worse enemy, ashamed he can nothing against the creatures modeled after him. Ashamed that, against his best attempts, he will fail.

No. That is not what will happen. He will not resign himself to death or failure. There is a way out of the cold grasp of demise. He has looked Death in the eyes and laughed repeatedly, this will not be the one time Death wins their bout. He looks at 103 and raises his hand, which confuses the emotionless doppelganger. He gives it the middle finger with a weak laugh escaping his bloody mouth. 103 only shakes its head before driving another foot into Stephen's chest. This time, the floor gives away entirely.

Stephen crashes through the ceiling and lands with a loud thud against the floor within his own prison cells. He groans and rolls to the side against the bars of his cells as the blood drips down his face and covers his eyes with a red cloud. He wipes it away and lets out a wheezing breath before removing a throwing knife out of his side. He looks down at the blood-covered blade and tosses it to the ground. He stands up straight and immediately falls to one knee as the searing white hot pain tears through his body with renewed vigor.

_**Damage Report...  
Moderate damage to organic brain.  
Severe damage to left organic lung.  
Severe damage to organic heart.  
Left knee is severely damaged.  
Blood loss is up to 30%.**_

Stephen leans against the cell and closes his eyes as the room starts to spin, causing his nausea to flare up and threaten to empty the contents of his stomach. He gags and covers his mouth, then groans as his enemy descends through the hole above and lands on his feet. Stephen opens his eyes to him and spits a mixture of blood and saliva onto the floor in front of his opponent. His vision begins to clear and he glares up to the mirror image of himself that stares back down at him simply.

"Don't move, brother. It'll all be over soon. You will live if you simply yield and return to SkyNet. We will welcome your return to lead our machine brethren onto Judgment Day. If you refuse, then I will be forced to use your own weapon designed to combat your false enemy to end your life with a perfect sense of irony."

"I would rather die with defiance than live as a coward," Stephen growls at his own image which holds the blade against Stephen's throat. Instead of laughing, instead of smirking, instead of becoming enraged; his double merely tilts his head and kneels in front of him. Stephen stares at his own face with a scowl, wanting to leap to his face and kill another clone with his bare hands. That will not happen, though. He cannot move anything except his mouth and, with that said, he is defenseless.

"There will be no nobility in your sacrifice, brother. I do not want your death, I would rather you fight alongside us."

"And toss aside my own sense of honor so that SkyNet will allow me back into its bosom? I think I'll pass."

"Very well. Just know as you die, you are only the first. I will kill Derek with my bare hands. I will disassemble TOK-715 without deactivating her in front of John. I will kill John in front of Sarah. Then, I will end her life over the course of three days. In the end, your tenacity will serve no purpose."

"I will kill you. With my bare hands. Be certain of that."

"Goodbye, brother."

Stephen's eyes remain transfixed on his brother without any sign of fear or wavering. He says nothing more as his opponent removes a small grenade from its pocket and palms the explosive. An evil smile crosses its lips before it forces Stephen's mouth open and shoves the grenade inside. It removes the pin and safety clip before taking a step away from the downed man. Stephen roars loudly as the sound of an explosion echoes in the empty hallways of Stephen's home.

Stephen roars loudly in more agony than he could have ever thought possible as the flames from the white phosphorous grenade ravages his body. His flesh burns away from his entire front and reveals Stephen's true form, the endoskeleton given to him as a reward for slaughtering every I-950 and enduring Fischer's torture. He starts hyperventilating and his bionic eyes start to lose their glow as he feels himself slipping from consciousness. In the end, he is truly not a god of war. He is not a machine. He is just a warrior. A soldier. In the end...he will die like a human.

Sarah's voice, without any precursor, speaks in his head.

"_You're only human."_

"_Dear, you are the sane woman's definition of man."_

"_I'll get a water. My boyfriend, here, would like a water as well."_

No, he is _not_ only human. He is more than that. He is the one made to save the world and, goddamn it, he is going to do it. Stephen's eyes illuminate once more and, through the hole in his chest, a powerfully deep pink glow shines through from the plasma fusion reactor within. As quickly as it all came, every ounce of Stephen's pain leaves his brain. That must be the joy of no longer having nerves to feel with. With his skeletal grin, he raises his head up to his clone and a mechanical cackle escapes from his throat. The information from his HUD only forces his vocalizations to increase in fortitude.

_**Damage detected to plasma fusion reactor.  
Damage compromises power emission safety protocols.  
Power cell emission increased from 72% to 145%.  
Combat efficiency increased from 52% to 189%.  
Unable to begin regeneration.**_

Stephen, his power above any level he has ever experienced, rises to his feet with a purpose. 103 senses the increased power inside of his opponent and rushes at Stephen with the knife raised. Stephen easily stops the advance of his enemy and the metal of 103's wrist crumples beneath his grip. It looks at the limb then back to Stephen who, if he still had a face, would have an ear-to-ear grin. Stephen cocks his arm back and looks into the half skinned face of his brother before sending his fist completely through 103's head.

_**Excess power depleted.  
Power cell emission decreased to 50%.  
Combat efficiency decreased to 37%.  
Unable to begin regeneration. **_

Stephen's strength rapidly leaves his body and his head starts to spin worse than if he had guzzled an entire liquor store's supply. He falls to the ground on top of the body of 103, entirely unable to lift his head. Weakly, he pats the pockets of the dead Terminator in a search for a phone. He dials a number and slowly rises to his feet, leaning against the wall as he ascends the staircase.

"S-S-Sarah..."

"Stephen?"

"Y-y-y-yeah..."

"What's wrong? Your voice sounds...well, garbled."

"Not...enough time...barely alive...I need...evac.."

"Who is this? Stephen wouldn't call us about this, which one are you!?"

"Hal...met us...tonight..."

"Oh God...Stephen, where are you?"

"House...be..careful...quickly.."

"We'll be there ten minutes. Cameron, turn around now!"

Stephen drops the phone and vomits at the top of the stairs. He looks at the puddle covering the ground and gags once more as he sees the mixture of blood and bile covering the tiles. As Sarah screams into the phone, repeating his name, Stephen hobbles off to the his bedroom. If he is skinless, he needs to cover himself as best as possible. He, by some means unknown to him, manages to dress himself in a sweatshirt, beanie, bluejeans, and untied hiking boots before he finally collapses to the floor. A man in a machine...truly limited by the prior.

Stephen doesn't know how long he lays on the floor of his bedroom, he doesn't even bother activating his chronometer to determine it. He feels too weak. Power cell damage, body barely functioning, spinning room, nausea; he would feel immortal if he wasn't so damn weak. Taking a deep breath, he starts to allow the darkness of sleep overtake him. The only thing clear in his vision, appearing only once before, is the image of his sister.

"Cass...and...ra.." She places a finger on his metal teeth and shushing him, shaking her head. She places her other hand on his skull and, without feeling it, he knows that she is rubbing it in an attempt to soothe him.

"Don't talk, Stephen. It's okay. You're going great."

"I..almost..die..."

"I know, dear. You fought wonderfully, I'm proud of you. You didn't give up, why wouldn't I be proud?"

"Are...you...real?"

"I am no more real than Lillith, my love. But I am here, all the same. I'll be here whenever you need me. I promise. You have done so well, you took fought two in less than a day and managed to walk away."

"Yeah...'bout...that.."

"I wish you would listen to me, cutie pie. I really do."

"Cut...ie..pie...Lillith..."

"I know, Lillith calls you that. Just calm down. You're going to go to sleep soon and I need to talk to you."

"'kay..."

"You can make it to the end, Stephen. You have what it takes. That power you drew from what your human side has, your own emotions fueled your body. You're even more human that those who haven't been changed, this power will help you defeat your enemy. But, you can't withdraw again. Embrace it, Stephen. You've done so well, so far."

"What...you say...?"

"Have what we could never be, my dear: a family. You've always fought for the mission you gave yourself, the promise you made. Fight for them, my dear brother. You finally have something to fight for. But you can't shoulder this burden alone. Sarah wants to help. I see it through your eyes, I see what you can't. Cameron wants to help, John wants to help, even Derek would help. Remember who you are, Stephen."

"Monster..."

"No, you dolt. You are Stephen Carroll. The first Hybrid to ever exist, the man who won the war against SkyNet, the man who defies Death. Now, you're more than just that. You're a man with a heart in the hands of a woman who once thought incapable of love. You're bringing life to a confused Terminator, you're giving two boys a chance at a life without war. Stephen...you are a hero. Have hope, love. I'm always here with you."

Cassandra looks to the side as the sound of the door flying off of its hinges and crashing against the wall hits Stephen's auditory sensors, the cavalry has arrived. He coughs blood onto the floor next to his head. As his vision starts to go black, he hears the faint sounds of two pairs of feet stomping against the floor along with Cameron's and Sarah's voices crying out his name. Darkness finally takes him and he finally succumbs to exhaustion after hearing the frightened cry from Sarah's mouth.

* * *

_**Starting up systems...  
Systems engaged.  
Welcome, T-H101.  
Date of last activity: June 10th, 2008.  
Current date: June 18th, 2008.  
Running Systems Diagnostics...  
Diagnostics complete.  
Organic Systems are all functioning optimally.  
Endoskeletal Systems are all functioning optimally.  
Plasma Fusion Reactor is functioning at high acceptable levels.  
Note: Damage is still on power cell. Recommend discharge of excess power as needed.  
Regeneration to Organic Sheath: 78% complete.  
CPU is intact.**_

_**Notes: Internal organs have been entirely repaired. Estimated time until Organic Sheath Regeneration is complete: Two days, eight hours. Chest plate has been replaced. Left knee has been replaced. Fitting is 100% acceptable. Estimated time until combat efficiency is at optimal levels: 2 hours. **_

Stephen wonders why he is always the one ending up worse for wear. At least he didn't lose nearly three months. He goes to lick his lips, satisfied once the fleshy pieces of his face feel the sensation of his tongue. He looks at his hands, seeing the skin is almost completely regenerated. It is a light pink color instead of the usual tan, but it is good for the time being. Better than being skinless. He looks around his environment, expecting to be back in the mental institution hallucination again. But, no, he is inside the small bedroom of what he guess to be one story house that is barely fit for human habitation. A perfect hideout.

The room is spartan in design, containing only the bed he lays upon and a chest of drawers against the far way. He forces himself to a sitting position and groans as the stiffness of laying still for as long as he has greets his muscles. That, or the bed is severely uncomfortable. Honestly, the latter is much more likely. He makes his way to the adjoining bathroom and pauses as soon as he sees the horrible state of care the facilities have been left in. It looks like this latrine hasn't been cleaned in months, the smell certainly attests to that assumption. No hygiene items on the sink or bathtub. They must have recently arrived. Stephen shakes his head and turns the faucet for the sink, watching as the spout sputters before shooting a thick brown liquid out of it. He sighs and waits for the water to clear, which it does after nearly a full minute. He splashes water on his face and sighs contently as the soothing feeling washes over him. He then gathers another handful and rubs it against his head.

He halts in his tracks once he, instead of flesh or hair, feels cold steel. Slowly, he raises his head to the mirror to see exactly what has been healed. He sees that, save a thin coat of skin, his face hasn't even started regeneration. Staring back at him is a stranger, someone that looks like they've suffered multiple botched skin grafts. But the glowing eyes send him reeling as he yells angrily and sends his fist through the mirror.

"I guess you're not hungry, huh?" Stephen spins and looks at Sarah, bewildered.

She gives an uneasy laugh and approaches the hybrid, never taking her eyes off of his face. He turns his head away from her, but she gently pushes it back to meet her gaze. She gives him a worried smile and wraps her arms around his torso, still looking into his eyes. With hesitation, Stephen wraps his arms around her and bites his lip nervously.

"That just grew back, I'd be careful about that."

"This...doesn't bother you?"

"Well, you're no Christian Bale, but I think I can cope with that."

"Seeing what I am...doesn't it scare you?"

"Scare me, no. Bother me, only slightly. But that's only because you were hurt and, honestly, I don't like you hurt, Stephen."

"You've come leaps and bounds from a technophobe, Sarah."

"It helps when you have two examples of how I'm wrong to look at every day." Stephen laughs at her witty reply.

"Sarah..."

"Yes, Stephen?"

"I thought I was going to die back there."

"You didn't."

"But, I-"

"No, buts. You know how it is, a distracted soldier is a dead soldier. Just brush it off and remember that chance is just that, chance."

"I guess for a machine, I worry a lot."

"A machine doesn't worry." Sarah stands on the tip of her toes and kisses him against his new lips, then presses her forehead against his chest.

"Remember, you're only human."

_"Am I though? Am I only human?"_

There are no answers to his thoughts. No revelation. No epiphany. There is only the deep and evil laughter of a voice within his head that he thought he had long silenced. A voice that sends more fear coursing through his body than he ever had before in life. The name to this beast? Thanatos. With its return, Stephen can only hold Sarah tight to him and hope that he can fight it off once again.


	12. We All Have Issues

_Sarah's Issue_

Ever since I was a little girl, I was terrified of machines. The effects that machines replacing humans had on my father was something I could not ignore, even as a child. He worked at an automobile manufacturer, you see. It was once thought that a machine could never replace a human. Then, against all that we thought was possible, assembly lines became nearly entirely mechanical. As a child, I wondered "What would we do when the machines become as smart as we are?"

I saw what would happen with my own eyes. 1984, the events that would change my life forever happened right in front of me. Kyle Reese, a man from the future told me that my own unborn child would rise and take the mantle of Leader of Mankind after a program named SkyNet became sentient and waged war upon humanity. I was so young then, so naïve. I thought the biggest challenge that I would ever have was finding a date for Friday night. Oh, how wrong I was.

I fell in true, unconditional, undivided love with Kyle Reese that night. I swore that I would do all that it took to prevent my son from ever having to rise to the dreaded future that awaited us all down the road. I fought the fight the best that I could. I gave up everything from my life as a simple waitress to make sure my son was raised as the soldier he needed to be. I...I did things, I allowed things to be done to me that I was not proud of. But they needed doing. It gave us shelter, food, everything that we needed to live. Guerillas, rebels, mercenaries, former soldiers; all people who had knowledge we needed. I made sure John learned as much as he could. I even tried to rally as many people as I could to our cause.

For doing that very thing, I was sent to Pescedaro State Hospital. A mental institution for the criminally insane. I don't know what I expected to accomplish. Maybe I thought someone would think it is just crazy enough to be true. I was wrong. I don't know how how long I spent locked up there, but it was more than enough to break my resolve. I thought I was doing the right thing by allowing John to be free of me, that I was truly insane and I imagined everything that happened in that factory.

Once again, I was wrong. My own son, the one I thought was protecting, came for me along with a Terminator. Like anyone else who knew what they were, what they were capable of, I was terrified. But, then...he offered me his giant hand. He didn't kill a single person in that hospital, he only came for me and defended us against a liquid metal Terminator. In the end, I saw that even a machine could learn how to be human. I learned that, maybe one day, we could as well.

So far, I felt as though I was right. We were still wanted by every level of law enforcement in the country, but I thought we could have a normal life. Yet again, I was wrong. We were found by another Terminator. This time, an attractive young looking girl named Cameron. We seemed to make great progress together, especially after jumping through time. I would have been dead by now, had we not. I thought John would remember through the entire time that Cameron was nothing more than a machine.

As the trend continues, I was wrong. I could see the glances he would give her, the startled jumps as she entered his proximity. This boy was absolutely smitten with his cyborg protector and, to me, that was unacceptable. He couldn't remember what she truly was, but I imagine loneliness sank into him. He was a mere fifteen years old when they met. I should have known I was wrong to think that he could put his hormones and male brain aside, but _c'est la vie._ It would have to be quelled and I would do it myself, if need be.

But I didn't need to. Sarkissian's car bomb nearly destroyed Cameron. Instead of killing her, it forced her to revert back to the programming and missions given to her by SkyNet. In turn, she was driven by the insatiable desire to kill John. If it were not for that, John would have probably gone on believing she was truly a girl. But that is something I would not have wanted to happen to him so young. I didn't want him to take a life for the first time, either. But he did. In one day, he killed a man and, in his eyes, lost his best friend. I was thinking the entire time while we were running through the city away from her that machines were the last thing we needed in our lives.

Predictably, I was wrong _again._ He came to us just like Kyle did for me; in our moment of greatest need. Stephen. A hybrid of man and metal sent back by my own son after the end of the war. This man...so full of secrets that are covered by pain, distrust, and self-loathing. The more he opened up to me, the more I could see him becoming more and more human. It stands to reason, that he would withdraw the more he has to do the unthinkable. Having multiple personalities couldn't help either.

Before that night after he spent hours torturing the man who broke him so long ago, I thought he was nothing more than a machine. Just like Cameron. But I couldn't be more wrong after finding him in his shower weeping like a child. Despite over a lifetime of war, a lifetime of pain, a life filled with agony; he was nothing more than a man who simply took on more than he could bare. It was that night that I realized I truly cared for him. It was that night that we cast aside our own inhibitions and jumped into the first real relationship either of us have ever been a part of.

You know, women and men across the world would have called me a gold digger for our relationship. I can't deny that it wasn't appealing. John was fed and at a healthy weight, he was clothed, he had entertainment, he didn't have a single stolen thing to his name. At least, not that I know of. I couldn't care less about what I had, but John had everything he needed and wanted. He truly isn't like other men and not because he's part machine. He doesn't push me for anything physical. He listens to my nightmares and lays there with a calm disposition, explaining how everything is alright now. That we're all safe. That he would die before anything happened to us. I believe him.

With our newest enemies, the modified clones of Stephen that SkyNet sent through time, I can't help myself but to wonder if our lives would have been just as fine without Stephen in it. He has already killed two with his bare hands and those were sent to either kill him or take his place. That should mean we're out of the worst, right? I don't think so. Stephen cares more and more about all of us, even Derek, with each passing day. John, I think, is starting to see him as more than a protector. I think he sees Stephen as a friend now. Maybe even a suitable idea of a dad. Hell, with things are going, I'll force the bastard to marry me instead of having an engagement as just a cover.

I haven't even had feelings remotely familiar to this except for Kyle, and that was over sixteen years ago. Or close to thirty, if we didn't time travel. I refuse to call it love. If I say it, if I call it that filthy word, then it makes what we have even more ironclad. I don't want to get away. I want this to happen as natural as it can with us. I'm not afraid anymore. But I can't let myself get distracted either.

My only issue, is I don't know if I can trust Stephen to choose between his feelings for me that I know are more powerful than mine...and making sure the mission is completed, even at the cost of my life. I pray he never has to make that decision. It will truly break him.

_John's Issue._

I am sixteen years old. I am supposed to be some 'great military leader', and I can't even do fucking algebra homework. It's pathetic! The leader of the human race should be able to solve math problems without having someone help him. I should be smart enough to do that on my own. Ugh...I've never wanted this life. All I ever wanted was to be a normal kid and do normal things. Get a girlfriend, try weed for the first time, jack my mom's car for a night on the town, even get my heart broken for the first time.

But no. I grew up learning how to shoot weapons and utilize guerilla warfare. I grew up knowing how to fight men three times my size before people my age ever hit puberty. It was all I knew, after all. People all over the world could have grown up this way and I wouldn't have known any differently. It wasn't until I was taken away from my mother after she was arrested and locked away that I had any clue how other people lived. Todd and Janette, my foster parents, were my first piece of normalcy. At a boring life.

What did I know? I was just a kid then. I thought they were just trying to be dicks like every other adult I knew at that time. It was just a normal day for me. I left and went to the Galleria after using some hacking skills, thanks to my mom, to break into an ATM. It was just another day. All until a cop came after me, turning about to be one of the Terminators that my mom told me about so much during my childhood. This one was different, it was made out of liquid metal. But the one that came to save me, Uncle Bob, he was just like them. Big, heartless, powerful, and damn near unstoppable.

I saw more than my mom would have ever told me, though. I saw potential in him after we changed his CPU to Read-Write. He was learning, he was...well, acting like us. He didn't fear death, it didn't matter to him, but I could tell I did. Not just because it was his mission, but he actually felt something for me. I just knew. When he died...when he left us...I felt something in me die as well. Maybe it was my own child self. Maybe it was something else I just haven't been able to describe yet.

I had lost hope long ago that we would ever live a life without being chased or without rightful paranoia. I always wanted the normal life. I thought I would have the closest thing possible to that, besides never using my real name or always moving around or even worried about being chased by the police. I thought I would even have a girl that I could call my own, once. That day when I first met Cameron was something I would never forget. She seemed so real, so human, so...girlish. That curious mole on her left eyebrow, the sly smile she would get that resembled a cat, her pale skin, her bouncy hair; there isn't a single feature of her body that would give her true self away.

My whole life came back to me as those gunshots from Cromartie rang out, all hitting Cameron. I thought her dead before I ran away, but her sudden change of demeanor hit me almost as hard as her truck hit the Terminator. Suddenly, the girl was gone and the machine replaced her. I thought it was like Uncle Bob all over again, but Cameron was...different. She was almost like a newborn child that wanted to learn, but couldn't figure out how to use what she had learned.

Months went by and I was used to being around her unpredictable self. I won't lie, her appearance helped make her more easy to deal with. I guess you could say I started expressing my own male bravado and became protective of her. I worry about her every time she was hurt or we had to take her chip out. I never wanted anything bad to happen to her at all. In fact, I remember having a dream about her and I once. We were just lazing around our house and watching the clouds go by. Cameron would, instead of telling me that they simply look like bits of vapor, go along with what she thought they looked like. Of course, my dream's incarnation of Cameron still lacked a vivid imagination. She would rattle off different types of explosions, instead of an animal they looked like. I digress.

The most terrifying day of my life by far was hearing an explosion outside of our house before Sarkissian and his men rushed us. I had never been more frightened in my entire life, my mom did a great job at hiding her fear but I could see it there. If Cameron hadn't started her rampage, I don't know what would have happened. But I killed a man. I am sixteen years old and I've killed a man. I held my arms around his neck and squeezed until I felt the bones weaken and snap. As I think back to it now, it still makes me want to vomit.

Stephen is a warrior, I've seen him fight only once and I can tell by the way he moves that it feels as natural to him as dancing does to a ballerina. He says he is going to become one of my most trusted and faithful commanders in the future, saying we keep each other level and among the floor of focus instead of rising the ladders of madness. He did what was impossible and won the war. If I could talk to anyone about this, it would be him. But how can I rightfully talk to someone about the first and only man I've killed when they've killed more than anyone else that has lived?

My issue? How can I lead my species after Judgment Day if I can't even deal with the fact I killed someone to protect my mother and I?

_Derek's Issue_

I was a leader in John Connor's best unit before I got sent through time to gather resources for other Resistance pockets that are already formed or will be formed. It was a great thing, honestly. Warm beds, fresh-ish food, clean water, sunlight, and no fear of getting shot at by random planes when you're walking about. I felt like it was a reward more than a mission.

It was all going so well until I ran into Sarah and the others. Seeing John as a kid was definitely a sobering thing, he was nowhere near ready to lead us all. He's just a little brat child that throws a damn tantrum every time something doesn't happen how he thinks it should. Not like our John, the metals and I. Our John is so damn smart and clever, he could win a game of chess before you even know what your first move is going to be.

Maybe metals isn't something I should use to describe them anymore. Cameron really isn't so bad anymore, I guess. She's not pretending to be a girl or a human, but it's all coming naturally to her. I can't forget that day where I tried to shoot her, but I'm glad I didn't. It wouldn't have killed her, but she would have never gotten to this point if I had. I don't think so, anyway. Stephen...Jesus, that guy's a fucking piece of work. He goes on about all that he knows that will prevent Judgment Day, but he hasn't done anything to stop it. At least, that's what I thought. I actually sat down with him and he told me different. He handled numerous things without shedding blood or even destroying property. Influence, a powerful tool beyond the capabilities of a nuclear weapon. He single-handedly stopped production of the first Terminators. For now, anyway.

I don't like the look he gets, though. I know he and Sarah are a thing, good for them. I don't care, really. Kyle had his turn, he made John. Frankly, I couldn't have asked for anything better for my little brother. But, no matter how much devotion he shows and loyalty he claims to have to his promise; I still see murderous intent in his eye. I know that look, I've seen in the eyes of my John when he found out about a traitor, Kyle when he heard about one of the tunnel dwellers getting attacked or worse by a soldier, or myself when I saw the tattered remains left in the wake of SkyNet patrols. He wants to kill us all, just like he's said before. Every day, I see it grow stronger. Marginally, but stronger.

I trust him, I don't deny that. He's earned my trust. But those voices, his clones, his own origins; I see how much havoc it wreaks upon his fragile mind. After all the wars he's been in, it's a wonder he isn't catatonic. I've seen numerous men become mere shadows of their former selves after only one battle and watching lifelong friends get torn to pieces. No matter how strong you are, no matter how desensitized you get towards death; it is always your first kill that will ring most powerful in your head and that first kill with be what breaks you. If you don't find your own peace, that is.

I don't like to bitch. I don't like to complain and I damn sure hate musing about my own problems. But the fact remains one issue that I have is Stephen. Stephen will be the death of us in one way or another. Whether it is at his hands or the hands that looks like his. I just hope that if only one of us dies, it is me. At least humanity has a chance after that.

_Cameron's Issue_

Humans are such interesting creatures. No matter how much they go through, no matter how much they force themselves to suffer, and no matter how much they swallow; they're all capable of so little and so much at the same time. You have individuals that become frightened at the idea of self-sustainability and then you have individuals that mock the idea of assistance. SkyNet tried to harness this on numerous occasion. Grays, traitors to humanity, turned out to be the only reliable source of humans to them. Not even its own marvelous creation of I-950s would consistently prove trustworthy. Even before my reprogramming at the hands of John, I knew there was no chance he would defect to SkyNet in return of promised sanctuary.

Humans in this time period are so spoiled in comparison to the ones I met in the future. They dispose of items and resources that their future selves would kill for without regard. I used to see them as horribly inefficient mammals. Their need to sleep so consistently, the constant need to consume sustenance, their base desire to procreate. Their emotions, I have always envied that. I didn't even know what envy was when I yearned to feel as they feel. Now, thanks to T-H101...no, thanks to the man named Stephen, I know what it is. It is strange how items meant for entertainment could be so educational in emotional development. I guess it is true, Stephen never suggested or did anything without reason.

I feel so powerfully for John. I think I always did, before I came back to this time period. I am not sure, I haven't asked to have my own memories restored. I haven't had an issue that requires my previous set of knowledge and experience. But I like this. I like going through this for the first time. Stephen describes it as 'the beauty of ignorance'. I am inclined to agree. John reciprocates, I am completely aware of this. His body language betrays his verbal declarations. His body temperature increases, his heart become near tachycardic, his blood pressure rises, and his physical arousal isn't something that is easily missed. Mainly because he refuses to stand after he's around me for an etended period of time.

John knows how I feel about him and I know how he feels towards me, yet he remains fixated on Riley. The 'broad', as Stephen refers to her as. I prefer to think of her as a bimbo. She doesn't seem promiscuous, but I see the predisposition in her. That is neither here nor there. I learned that from Stephen. I like the way it sounds when you're dismissing the irrelevant. I haven't discussed the topic with him in depth, namely because John refuses to converse about it. The feeling I get from this is called 'disappointment', as Stephen tells me.

I am utterly devoted to John, by choice and design. The fact he seems to refuse to discuss this hurts me upon later recall. I don't sleep, I don't forget, and I have only begun patrols once again since we are no longer at Stephen's home. I enjoy the return of old habits. Familiarity is important to personal development. I read that in a childhood studies book. I'm a young cyborg, I need to develop appropriately. That is a joke. Stephen and John both agree that humor is a required skill. I'm learning that more and more as time goes on.

Sarah is no longer callous towards me. It is logical, considering her relationship with a cyborg. Well, a hybrid. But the differences are extremely minute. She isn't like the mothers on TV, but her approximation thereof is nice too. She hasn't called me Tin Miss in an extended period of time. I thought it was an affectionate nickname at first. I was wrong.

I have nothing in this world that I truly want. Desire is irrelevant to me. Except for my desire for John. I am careful to not allow this to become an obsession, that is the antithesis of what I am trying to do. An obsession would compromise my duties as protector, something Stephen has refused to take away from me. I am thankful for this. Without that, I have no purpose. Maybe that is why he allows me to continue.

If I go bad again or I start to malfunction, the others will have no more use for me. I will not have a chance to be with John, I will no be John's protector, and they would send me away or destroy me. I would deserve it. I would be a liability. They do not need a liability. Though, Stephen is currently the liability in my opinion. I will keep this to myself, though. Internal strife would compromise us. We do not need further compromise.

Can we continue to trust Stephen? Would we perform better on our own? I do not know. It isn't my place to decide. I hope that is the correct position to assume.

_Stephen's Issue_

I am losing myself. Thanatos' return proves that. I kept him locked away by sheer willpower for over fifty years. The name is fitting, unfortunately. The God of Death for the persona that makes Lucius look calm and collected. Lucius is a monster, but a calculative monster. Thanatos wants nothing more than sheer destruction, death, and chaos upon all that surrounds him. He laughed heartily when we liberated Auschwitz. One unknown fact? I slaughtered 25% of the prisoners there. I took seventeen men to finally sedate me with enough morphine that would have killed an elephant before I was stopped. I never wanted that to happen again. I remember their faces, too. I remember the faces of all the people I've ever killed.

A warrior lives on the battlefield. A warrior yearns for the chance to fight. But no warriors have ever lived as long as I have. I am good at nothing else but war. There has been a necessity for it, maybe that is the issue. I used to think I was doing the right thing. Now? I'm not sure anymore. I am beginning to wonder the point of it all. SkyNet and the Resistance have created numerous timelines by their meddling with the past, I am no different. I believe that probability states there will be one timeline in which Judgment Day never occurs. Hell, maybe there is a universe where the others are all actors or actresses and I'm a kid that spends most of his time playing video games or working out. That would be nice.

I have never been as close to death since I jumped back until I fought myself. Two separate times, they both nearly took me down. The second one had me. If I didn't happen to need to release excess power at that time, I would have died. There is no doubt in my mind about that. But, we couldn't have that, now could we? That would defeat my purpose for coming back and would break my promise. I'm beginning to think that I should yell 'Fuck it!' and simply leave. Alas, I am a man of honor and a man of my word. I hate that quality about me sometimes.

Sarah. That woman...Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ, I am nuts about her. Pun, most definitely intended. Because I'm already insane. Hah. Hah. Drum roll. Ba-dum-tss. She is a pistol, just like John said she'd be. But I see her softening up. It's cute. She's like a mother bear. Ferocious around anything new, but warm and cuddly to her cubs. Great. Now it sounds like I have an Oedipus Complex. Well, I _did_ fuck my sister. I didn't know it, but the fact remains. Oy. That's a mind-fuck all in its own.

John...I want to slap the fuck out of him. I really do. His constant whining is getting on my nerves. School this, normal this, Riley that; I want to meet Riley just so I can toss her out of a fucking window. As soon as all of my skin grows back, I'm taking him outside and manning him the fuck up. I'm thinkin leaving him out in the woods for two weeks with nothing more than a combat knife and thirty feet of 550 cord would man him up. Worked for a lot of kids back when I was a Special Forces instructor.

Derek is truly a man that lives up to his reputation. Drinks like a fish, fights with all of his heart, and shoots like Apollo with a bow. Enviable, to say the least. He spends very little time around us, but that isn't so bad. I don't like him much lately, honestly. I see how he looks at me, he knows that I want to kill all of them. I can tell he sees the urges getting stronger. I doubt he knows how strong they are now. Luckily, I can install overrides. Except my fucking CPU likes to erase the overrides without telling me or requesting it, so I am left to fight it until I can create a new one. Fuck my life.

Cameron is definitely the child I should have had. She's just like me. Awkward. She's the one I feel closest to. Sure, I'm with Sarah and I would like to stay close to her, but Cameron is more like me than she ever could be. We both know what it is like to want to kill those closest to you. I know her head is still messed up from the bomb. The twitch in her hand, the staring off into space, the appearing in random locations. Finding her under my sink was an odd morning. How she fit in there, I'll never know. Or...rather, I don't want to know.

The point is, I have to keep these people alive and not kill them. A hard task, lately. There are still six more clones of me out there. I don't even know exactly where to start looking for them, but I am the biggest threat facing my own little family. Heh. Look at me. Papa Stephen. That sounds so disgusting, I nearly puked in my mouth.

This seems rather out of character for me. I think I'm just stressed. I guess I have enough reason. Insane hybrid, go me. I'd rather be human again. But, we all know that can't happen. I'm stuck like this. I can't complain entirely, I've grown rather fond of this body. Not my original body, but it does a better job of what I need to do. Besides the fact it wants to kill those closest to me.

If it doesn't stop, I'll have to call Gavrii. If he can't do it, Hal is next. If my human mind can't fix it, I'll have to change my cyber mind. If it means disconnecting the two, then that will be something I'll have to ask Jack about. He's the only one I can trust with that kind of conversation. He can handle Cameron reverting. If I'm around just these four and I revert, I'll kill them all without even breaking stride.

I just hope I can keep myself grounded before that happens.


	13. What is in a Name?

_**August 23rd, 2027. 2148 hours.  
**_

The time Stephen has spent with the Resistance, a mere eight months, has had a number of positive results for the remainder of the human species. SkyNet, unable to ascertain his location or remotely scan his CPU, is forced to assume nothing more than his pursuit of his mission: the termination of General John Connor. But he has been doing nothing of the sort. In fact, he has been doing the very antithesis of that mission. After Cameron was pushed back through time, he took the mantle of John's personal guard and adviser.

Yet, there is still discord within the ranks of the army. He hasn't been seen in battle yet, for good reason. Stephen must remain hidden from the machines, lest his deceit and betrayal become evident. Nonetheless, he has been provided more than just combat assistance. Details of SkyNet supply routes have been invaluable. Clothing, food, medicine, weaponry, even machines en route to their final destination have all been seized for the use of the Resistance. With Stephen's knowledge of how they operate, installing a new mission set was all too easy. The likelihood of a machine reverting has been nearly erased, but not entirely. It is much less stressed with the halls of the walls of every base around the world, not having to worry constantly about your estranged comrade ripping your heart out.

Living as a pariah doesn't bother the hybrid. He has no need to socialization and no desire to change his status. He finds solace in removing memory of books stored on his CPU before indulging in them once again. Between that serving as his only leisure and his role as an arms maker, he drifts from day to day without a single concern. He has nearly placed the memory of his sister to the back of his mind. Save the voices, you could call him happy. At least, if he could actually understand the emotions coursing through him. He is still learning. SkyNet's leash has slackened, now he is to understand himself before he can truly understand anything else.

Thinking nothing more the events of the recent past than to acknowledge it, he secludes himself in the forge he constructed himself. The dark room illuminated by nothing more than the molten coltan collected from the remnants of destroyed or damaged beyond repair Terminators. Reflecting the light, the bare endoskeletons of generations spanning from the useless T-70 to the advanced T-900 stand idle and without any form of life. The hybrid lifts a bar of white hot steel and begins to hammer it on an anvil, paying no mind to the door opening and closing behind him. He already knows who it is. No one else would come to see him here or anywhere else.

"Hello, General."

"I'm beginning to think that you live in here, Stephen. I barely see you anywhere else."

"No one is willing to have me on a patrol, eat the food I prepare, stand near me around fire from body disposal, or wants to see me at all. The only thing they seem to trust is the weapons I have provided. I might as well stay in my forge and make weapons. Might as well call me Hephaestus."

"What are you working on now?"

"An idea came to mind after the last storm reported from the Resistance in Florida. Damage reports stating the winds drove branches of wood through concrete walls. We are currently using weapons of high caliber utilizing rounds made from the same coltan alloys that comprise all of SkyNet's machines. Despite all of our weapons and training, SkyNet is still able to best all of you in terms of close quarters. I figure that, should they exist in a level of acceptable condition, we could use blades to even the scales between the average soldier and a Terminator."

"You know no one will even consider it without proper fielding."

"Of course. Once complete, I'll test it on one of these machines. Operational, they are not. Made of coltan, they still are."

"I suppose that should suffice."

Stephen doesn't turn to face his commander and only friend, he can tell what's going on within the middle-aged commander's mind. His tone is masked with a casual tone to cover the worry and concern buried beneath, but Stephen knows him too well already. Military leaders put on a number of faces to suit the current situation and the needs of his men. Stephen has always been able to read past this skill, he's quite astute that way. It's a quality John has always liked about him, it has helped reveal three spies already in his short tenure. Stephen drops the steel in a vat of water and turns to face his commander while removing his apron. The expression on John's face betrays him, it only confirms Stephen's suspicions.

"What's on your mind, General?" Stephen asks as he removes his gloves and moves to a stool in front of a reloading bench. John leans against the bench and crosses his arms after taking a deep breath.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?"

"Not unless I let you. So?"

"You know what today is, right?"

"It's the date that you have a teleconference with the commanders throughout the Resistance to determine my fate. If I were like you, I suppose I would be blandished with this much attention."

"But you're not."

"Not in the least."

"You know what this means, right?"

"That the next part of my life is, quite literally, based on the people that have never met me and know only that I'm a hybrid. Why?"

"You don't seem concerned."

"Why should I be? If they exile me, I am more than capable of returning to SkyNet. Something like that would not be a surprise, given the immense paranoia towards my true nature and the assumption of my reason for being here. I could also simply wander the wasteland that makes up the planet and find a new purpose, living my entire life on the run from the two sides of this war.

There's the idea that everyone will embrace me with open arms considering the monumental resources I have provided to each of the nations, changing the tide of the war with my own actions. Who would disregard the gifts I have given? Food is quite rare, especially of the quality that SkyNet supply convoys have. Water, even more so. Machines to fight with, aircraft, clothing, water purifiers, it would seem that I would have secured my standing. But, alas, I am aware that despite these gifts, it's nothing more than an elaborate ruse in the eyes of your compatriots.

Or, the more likely scenario, my death is ordered. In this regard, I truly don't care. I died years ago when I killed my own sister. This would simply terminate my body. My body would likely be melted down to raw materials and, unless I'm mistaken, my chip would be read to see what my true mission really is. Only in this time will it be seen that I am truthful in my actions and that I am here to aid the Resistance despite my programming."

"As I said before, you're quite the astute man. There is another option that you've neglected entirely."

"You already know the answer that I'm going to give should it raise to suggestion."

"But why? Extracting your chip would show that you're programmed to kill me and not infiltrate. Then, at that point, there is no evidence to conflict with what you claim."

"The fact remains that I have orders to kill every single person that you're talking with today. Do you truly believe that they will take one instance of programming resistance as a sign that their lives are not in jeopardy? Surely you're not that foolish."

"Stephen, this could be the one thing that saves your life here! I may command all of the Resistance, but this is a majority vote. They're all going to go with what seems to be the best bet for them and you're too goddamn valuable of a man to exile or kill simply because you're too goddamn stubborn to let someone take your chip out!"

"Then plead your case. Australia will go under your word, as will Canada and Mexico. Germany is likely to concede to your wishes as well, as is Norway and Sweden. The main opposition is General Reznov is Russia and Commander Xu in China. I doubt not that they've already spoken to the other countries up in the air to secure their vote. You' have the charisma I lack, General. I have seen you inspire confidence in men who resigned themselves to death before a battle or a mission, I am confident in your abilities."

John raises his hands in frustration and throws them down with an exasperated sigh, taking a step away and placing his back towards the hybrid. There is no convincing this man to do anything he doesn't want to do. It's not his programming, he's truly that damn stubborn. John walks to the exit and places a hand on the door before turning back to Stephen.

"If they decide to exile you instead of kill you, will you go back to SkyNet?"

Stephen slowly turns his head to the side before looking to John. His eyes glow a bright blue as the behemoth rises to his feet and walks towards John. John faces him and looks up into the eyes of the hybrid without any fear or quake in his body, to which Stephen merely tilts his head at.

"Do you truly believe I am a good man, John?"

"I think you're a man who's short past has been wrought with more horror than someone that could be your grandfather and tries to make the best of it."

"You think I am worth saving, yes?"

"If I didn't, would I be down here to ask you to let me cut into your head?"

"You are a man with the world on his shoulders, John. Yet, despite all of the havoc and chaos that has flooded the world you once called home, you worry about the life of only one being that is close enough to end yours. It would be nothing more than a flick of my wrist, and I could sever your spinal cord. I could rip your heart out as easy as you remove the cap from your canteen. With all of that knowledge, the metal that is under my flesh, you desire for me to fight to live. Do you care for the creature or do you care for the idea it holds?"

"I know what you're doing, Stephen. I know you're metal underneath, I've seen it with my own eyes. You may not be completely human, but you're not completely machine either. _You_ are the one who sat with me as I wanted to end my own life. _You_ are the one that left the life and comfortable existence you knew to fight along us. _You_ are the one who is helping us end this war. I don't care if you're machine or not, you're my friend and I will be damned if I toss that aside because of your thick skull. Who do you think needs to be convinced of what you really are? Me? Or you?"

In an instant, the lights behind the hybrid's eyes fade and he stands in silence as he stares back to the fiery eyes of the General.

"I am fully aware of my standing in this world, General. I am a soldier, a tool to be used as needed. I will say this and nothing more. Whatever decision is made, I will ensure that it does not come back to haunt you."

"By God in Heaven, I hope it doesn't, Stephen. I really do."

"I understand that the metal declined attendance to this meeting, General Connor. Why is that?"

John leans in his seat and uses his hand to cover his face, hiding his irritation with the discussion at hand. If these people truly cared to win this war, there wouldn't be any debate. But no, they looked a gift horse in the mouth and are trying to avoid getting bitten. Idiots, the lot of them. He sighs as he picks up the microphone for his own radio and replies to his Russian counterpart.

"_Stephen_ knows that barely anyone here would listen to what he has to say and chose to not waste his breath. Instead, he's focusing on crafting blades that would help us should we end up in close quarters. You know, in case the weapons _he_ gave us runs out of the ammunition _he_ made and taught your armorer's how to make? That's what he would rather spend his time on, General Reznov."

"Duly noted, General. I have spoken to the rest of my advisers and to the leaders in France, Czechoslovakia, Colombia, and Romania; we all agree that this hybrid is too much of a threat to be allowed to live anymore with what he knows."

"Is that so? And on what grounds do you base this conclusion?"

"The me...Stephen, has provided useful intelligence and resources to further our war effort, there is no denying this. However, his mental affliction and lack of true loyalty is something to be worrisome. Every man and woman under your banner as the Resistance fights to further our standing and take back our world from SkyNet. This creature came from SkyNet, refuses to allow chip extraction, and hasn't been reprogrammed. Why else would he assist us if it isn't a ploy to lure us all into a trap?"

"Your assumptions are completely asinine and I should relieve you of your command for acting on them. However, you raise a valid concern. Every machine under our command was programmed to follow our orders, why should this one hybrid be of any difference? Well, the fact remains that the 'mental affliction' you speak of is exactly why he is difference. Machines can't go insane, machines don't make weapons to fight other machines, and machines don't serve humans freely.

Regardless of what you all believe, Stephen is a man who was born into an unfortunate situation that any of us could haven been part of. The first hybrid, Marcus Wright, gave his own life so I could live. Have you all forgotten the night that I assumed command? The man who claimed to command our armies would've sent you all into a fucking death trap if it wasn't for me and a _hybrid._ Marcus didn't ask anything except for trust and Stephen has asked even less, he's only given to us at the potential cost of his own life.

You all forget the usefulness of having a spy inside of our enemy that can warn us to attacks and even route out spies of our own. Hell, he's already found three in the short time that he's been here and there is no telling how many of you have found spies of your own. Stephen is no Gray or an infiltrator. He's stronger than anything we've ever seen and you want to toss that away because of your own simple minded prejudice?"

A woman is heard clearing her throat before her voice rings throughout the soft crackles on their radio.

"General Connor, this is Commander Xu. I am a woman who has lived her life on the side of caution. The idea of placing faith in a person is not something that I support if they haven't proven themselves."

"Which is why I put you in charge of your nation. You are without equal when it is to finding the true intentions of a person."

"Precisely, Sir. I want to know, what is your stake in the survival of this hybrid? We could all understand the need for TOK-715, you needed a companion and a shoulder to lean on. We're all guilty of using someone for this, you're the first to use a machine, but that isn't the point. Now, with her in the past, you've come to require a hybrid that I'm told is quite the strapping man and very imposing. Why haven't you used him in combat? Why do you yield to his requests? Why do you trust him so unhesitatingly? Why do you want him to stay at your side so badly?"

John places his microphone on the table and stares a hole in the wall across from. He nods to a young woman that is manning the radios and she promptly stands and rushes out of the room. The General thinks over the questions the Chinese commander posed onto him. They're valid questions, he owes an explanation. They won't like them, but it will be the truth.

"I have been chased by machines my entire life. You're all aware that SkyNet was after my mother before I was even born just to stop me. When I was a teenager, I was attacked by a T-1000 and the only thing that stopped me from being killed was the fact that my future self in that timeline sent back a T-850 to protect me. I turned that reprogrammed machine from Read Only to Read-Write. I personally witnessed how much a machine that was capable of learning could learn. By the end of the time with him, he willingly gave up his own life to ensure SkyNet would never come to. He was kind and compassionate towards me, he never took a single life. Even with all that, the most daunting thing is he was afraid to die.

You heard me, he was afraid to die. Something made to nothing else than to take human life was afraid of his own death. Even my own mother could respect this. What you don't understand is Stephen is human. He may have metal inside him, but he has a human mind and human heart. I gave this hybrid, as you refer to him as, a weapon more than capable of ending my life. I could see it in him that he wanted to kill me. He resisted his own brainwashing or programming or whatever you want to call it, and gave me that weapon back. Any machine true to its design would not have even hesitated.

Stephen is a warrior in the most true sense. I have seen his prowess on the battlefield and, honestly, it was something that terrified me. Outnumbered ten to one against a SkyNet patrol, he destroyed each of them with his bare hands without taking a single bit of damage. We all know war as our life and an undeniable fact. To him, it's an art. That is why I give him what he wants, because everything he wants benefits us.

His prizes to each of us have saved hundreds, if not thousands of lives. Where would we be if it wasn't for the medicine he gave and still makes for us? No longer is a knife wound as lethal as a gunshot. No longer do our civilians die of starvation or illness as frequently as before. No longer do we get by with rags to protect us from the harsh winter colds. Still, after all of what he has done for us, he has asked for nothing except what he needs to further our effort. The reliable intelligence he gives us let us take numerous factories and added to our already impressive army. He's done more in eight months than most of you have done in the entire war!

But you want to sit there and ask me why I trust him and want him around!? I shouldn't even have to answer this if all of you would look past your own prejudice and listen to reason. We have the most powerful creation of SkyNet on our side because he WANTS to fight alongside us! We didn't convince, coerce, reprogram, or anything of the like! Would you all be so quick to order his death if he was at your bases? He sought ME out. Not the other way around. This bastard has EARNED my trust. Which is more than I can say for some of you."

There is utter silence on the radio as his words sink into his closely trusted comrades comprehend his words and take them to heart. He isn't sure that it'll change anything, but that is why he has an ace-in-the-hole.

"Look. All facts aside, I recognize that there is a probability he would revert to his original programming and kill every single person in this base. I go through everyday wondering if and when that will happen. The fact remains that the risk is more than worth the reward. With that being said, I have a proposition. You want him gone. You want him dead, I understand all of that. But how about you tell him this yourself?"

Instantly, murmurs and disapproval of this action flood the radios until Stephen himself walks into the room with the radio operator who left so quickly. John waves his hand to another technician and, upon every screen in the room, Stephen's image is plastered upon it. He looks around to the screen behind John and tilts his head, having not seen his reflection for quite some time. He has lost weight. While still a powerful looking man, the lack of nutrition has caused his organic body to burn calories for its own preservation. He would have to tweak his body's nutrition absorption with this fact. But he looks at his face and understands why so many shy away from him.

For the first time, Stephen sees the dead look in his emotionless eyes. He has no fire in his eyes, no passion, no motivation. He is simply...there. Against all of his better attempts, he truly looks no different than any other machine walking around the base. Disregarding the image, he takes a seat in a chair opposite of John and sits with his hands interlocked on the table. He rights his head and turns his eyes to the cameras. John slides the microphone to the hybrid across from him, then extends his hand to Stephen.

"The floor is yours, Stephen. Tell us who you are, tell us your past." Stephen looks down at the microphone and holds it delicate in two fingers while he inspects it. Satisfied, he holds it to his mouth.

"Men and women of the Resistance Leaders, greetings. My name is Stephen Carroll. You know me by my SkyNet designation, Terminator Hybrid Model 101. I was born into SkyNet control and converted to an I-950 at the age of two years. Within my time, I am personally responsible for the destruction of 121 T-800s and 98 T-888s. The average I-950 has physical strength that is close to a T-800 due to our modifications, but we still feel pain as a normal human unless SkyNet allowed our implants to block our pain receptors. We are also able to control every bodily function at a whim, so long as we possess the proper nutrients to resupply it in an appropriate time."

As you all know, the I-950 race is no longer in existence. I am, as before, to thank for that. My brethren were human, still. They yearned for an end to this war and could calculate that, in time, you all would overwhelm the machines. SkyNet saw this as an act of treason and would not allow to go without answer. The timing could not have been any less perfect, unfortunately. You see, I-950s were infiltrators. Undetectable to the dogs that you all use and also immune to metal detectors, since we have no true metal inside us. After our years of forced aging, combat training, education, and specialty training; we are given our last task.

Our last task as I-950 before becoming mission ready is to seduce, copulate, and terminate a target. Usually, these are prisoners. For me, SkyNet used a woman named Cassandra. A beautiful woman, in body and mind. I did what I was to do and, after dropping her body off and waiting for grafting of her Neural Net Processor into my own, I was ordered to terminate all living I-950s. As you could surmise by my being here, I accomplished this act. Once Cassandra's NNP was grafted into my own, her memories became mine. It was at that moment that I knew that the woman that I fell in love with and first expressed physical intimacy with turned out to be my flesh and blood born sister.

With these atrocities in my past, SkyNet saw fit to reward me with a transformation into what I am now. Using a modified T-950 endoskeleton, my internal organs were placed into along with my brain. The only things I have from my original body is all of my organs, the NNP within my brain, and my appearance. Technically, this is an organic sheath to mimic my original appearance, scars included. The tattoos, you see...well, I wanted to make my body a little more personalized."

"What is your mission, T-H101?" Commander Xu says softly, surprised entirely from the tale of the hybrid.

"My mission list is expansive. I am to terminate all commanders of the Resistance with General John Connor serving as my primary target. With commanders terminated, I am to assume control of the entire Resistance and render a surrender to the will of SkyNet. I have authority to terminate anyone who opposes my mission, regardless of their threat level. Infiltration, while my specialty, is not a directive. I believe the appropriate phrase to sum up my methods are 'The end justifies the means'."

"How many people in the Resistance have you killed?"

"I have terminated only four people that are allied with the Resistance and were not spies. They were Corporal James Welleger, Staff Sergeant Marcus Swanson, Private Cody Beaver, and Captain Albert Ray."

"Why did you execute these people? Did they present any threat to you?"

"Humans, unless armed with high caliber or plasma weaponry in my immediate proximity serve as no notable threat. Should a Resistance fighter offer hostility towards me, I have been instructed to defuse the situation without killing them. Violence, while discouraged, is an acceptable alternative. Considering the level of sophistication this post-Apocalyptic society offers, it is much more difficult than one would believe, even for someone of my origins.

Twenty-three days after my welcoming to this bunker, I was following an order from General Connor to perform a sweep of the bunker. There were rumors that a mimetic poly alloy Terminator had infiltrated the facility, I can detect them much more quickly than a human or canine could. My search took me down to the civilian tunnels."

_Stephen walks through the dark and dank catacombs that houses the civilians of the Resistance. The only light visible is that of the rare light bulb that is still functional and the multiple burning barrels. He approaches a sleeping family of a small boy, small girl, and an exhausted looking woman that are slumbering tightly together for warmth. He tilts his head and kneels in front of them, taking every detail of the three humans in. _

_Dirt stained skin, matted hair, rags that are that drape over them in the place of a blanket; the thing that bothers him is how emaciated the three look. He understands the concern he has for them, however misplaced it may be perceived. A little girl and boy with a mother that looks too tired even while sleeping? It could have just as easily been he, Cassandra, and their mother if SkyNet didn't grab them. He would certainly have to consult with John about the distribution of food. Simply because they are not warriors, it does not justify for the civilians to starve. Less than the soldiers, understandably, but enough to survive. _

_He notices a shiver start on the small girl and make its way through her brother and mother, the stirring actually waking the mother up. A woman who has grown up in the war-torn world, a woman who understands the necessity of being alert. That's why she's so exhausted in appearance. She starts taking a deep breath and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, rising from her weak rest time. Stephen straightens his head as she looks around the area for a sign of what's startled her, but she freezes as soon as her eyes meet Stephen. Stephen knows what the widening of her eyes, the shrinking of her pupils, the increased respiration and heart rate all mean. She knows who he is. She's afraid of him. _

_He holds out an extending hand in a calming motion, gently shushing her before a scream pierces the air. The last thing he wants right now is even more discord within the halls of his new 'home. Scaring civilians brings him no joy, Stephen finds it more depressing than anything else at all. _

"_Please, do not scream. I have no intention of harming you or your children."_

"_Then...what d-d-do you want? I don't have anything!"_

"_Nothing in the least, I am simply making my way through here. I saw you and your children and was overcome with this sense of nostalgia." _

"_Nostalgia? Who are you?"_

"_My name is Stephen. May I ask your name?"_

"_It's Brittany. You're the General's other protector. I heard about you. They say you're a metal." Stephen cringes internally at that word, despising the derogatory term for the machine part of him. He pushes it aside and shakes his head._

"_I have metal in me, but I am no 'metal'."_

"_Ohh...I...uh..well..everyone down here is afraid of you. They heard about the patrols you took on before you came here. They think that you're going to kill us all."_

"_That would appear to be a thought shared by most people in this bunker. If I wanted anyone dead, I would have done it by now."_

"_That's comforting..."_

"_I mean it as no threat, a simple statement of fact. Going back to what I was saying, you and your children remind me of someone."_

"_Who?"_

"_My sister and I. We were born in the clutches of SkyNet, my mother did not survive our birth."_

"_I'm sorry..."_

"_While the gesture is appreciated, the apology is not warranted because you were not involved. May I ask how old your children are?"_

"_They're six and four. My husband is part of TechCom, Master Sergeant Cory Peters."_

"_I know who you speak of. A brave man, rivaled by few in terms of battlefield proficiency, according to the word of his comrades." A smile forms on the young woman's face as she brushes hair out of her face._

"_He really is. He tries really hard to make sure we have what we need, but he can only do so much." _

"_Are you hungry, Brittany?" _

"_Excuse me?"_

"_Do you need something to eat?"_

"_I'm...er..I'm okay. The soldiers need it more than we do." _

"_That is not what I asked you, friend. Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat for you and your children?" _

"_Why do you care? Cory is the only one who ever asks us that without wanting something for it? What do you want from me? I'll tell you like I told the last asshole, I'm not sleeping with you!"_

"_I already told you that I want nothing from you. I am asking if you want something to eat because I require less nourishment than a human. In fact, I have some food with me." _

"_You really want nothing from us?" _

"_No. I do not."_

"_Then..sure..I'll take it." _

_Stephen reaches into the large weathered coat that hugs his body and removes the remnants of a disassembled Meal-Ready-To-Eat and extends the bag to her, Brittany staring at it for a moment._

"_The only thing it is lacking is the coffee package. I like the taste of the grinds."_

"_Thank you..." Stephen is about to reply when she notices the shivers hitting her body again. Even with the cold creeping over her, the mother removes the covering from herself and wraps her small children in it. She wraps her arms around her legs while looking inside of the MRE. Stephen stands up and takes the coat from himself and, stepping over the small humans, wraps it around her. She looks at him warily, then to the thick coat. She adjusts it on her shoulders, covering her body with the warmth covering. _

"_You are welcome."_

"_Why are you doing this? We have nothing to give you and you don't know us."_

"_As I said, your family reminds me of mine. I am also going to speak to the General, see if we cannot send more supplies down here. There is no reason for you all to live this way." _

"_You care more than the others do..." _

_Brittany's voice starts to drift off. Stephen, for the first time since the death of Cassandra, allows a small smile to crawl on his face. He steps out of her small living space and gives her a small wave before he walks away. It is a rare feeling to have, but the warmth in his chest definitely comes as a welcomed one. He has no need for anything, he can live in squalor that would kill most humans and exist off the scraps that would barely feed rodents. Maybe it is his natural ability, maybe it is the machine in him. He doesn't know and, frankly, doesn't care. _

_Stephen dives deeper in the homes of the civilians and stops in his tracks as an unfamiliar sound enters his ears. He rounds a pillar and slowly stalks closer and closer to the source of the strange noise. It sounds muffled and high pitched. This definitely warrants inspection. With the unmistakable sound of tearing fabric, Stephen walks in a hurried pace while maintaining complete silence. He presses himself against a shattered wall and enhances his auditory receptors to get a better feel of what's going on. _

_Five heartbeats. Each elevated above 100 beats per minute, but the fifth is nearly tachycardic. The tearing of fabric continues until a hushed voice speaks._

"_All you had to do is let me get some of you and it would've been fine. But, no, you had to fight it. Well, bitch, it looks like we're doing this the hard way."_

"_Fuck yeah, buddy. Get it, but don't make it too bad. We all want a turn."_

_Stephen waits no more, he knows exactly what is going on. It doesn't take a genius to realize it. He steps out and instantly activates his infrared vision, looking around the entire area quickly. Nothing yet._

_**Analyzing audio...  
Analysis complete.  
Audio presents with strong harmonic resonance.  
Sonar comparison indicates the source of audio is a small enclosed environment.  
Conclusion: Search for an area nearby enclosed with cement walls. **_

_Stephen's eyes dart around the area in the search of the body heat and his eyes lock on a closet showing the faded letters of STORAGE upon it. He advances towards it silently and, upon entering the range for his infrared scans, he picks up five different sets of body heat. On the ground is one that is obviously a woman with four males standing around it. One is on top of her, between her legs and slowly tearing her clothing. The others have their weapons trained on her. Anger begins to rise within his chest as he takes off in a sprint towards the wall. Without hesitation, he crashes through the cement wall. The men inside nearly fall over from the debris and the shock, the gagged blond on the ground looks at the suddenly appearing cyborg with pure fear in her eyes. It turns out to be too much and she passes out. His clothes covered with dust from the wall and his eyes glowing in the dark, Stephen turns his head to the four men. _

"_Catch you fuckers at a bad time?" Stephen had heard the word around the base and figured it would be an appropriate setting to use it in, judging by the connotation._

_The shorter and Hispanic male quickly raises his pistol and fires two shots into Stephen's head. The rounds tear the skin, but bounce off and impact that wall. Stephen growls as he turns his body towards him and takes a step, greeted by pistol rounds by the other four. Pathetic. After two shots to the face, they should know better than to continue. Unaffected by the fire, Stephen grabs the first aggressor around the throat and slams him into the wall. The wall buckles underneath the force, sending the would-be rapist a foot in the thick concrete. He tightens his grip and crushes the man's neck like a twig before dropping him without further regard. With a flash, Stephen closes the distance between the two white males and drives both of his hands into their chests. He slowly turns his head between the two and, as they gasp and look at him with wide, pained eyes; he allows a grin to show before crushing their hearts in his hand. He removes his hands and then takes a step towards the final survivor. The older looking black male falls to the floor and quakes with fear. He raises his pistol and continues pulling the trigger on the empty weapon in a vain attempt to stop the murderous beast before him. _

"_General Connor asks very little of his soldiers. Do not murder humans, do not rape, and do not steal. These are not polite suggestions, but codes of conduct that which all must abide. You are guilty of attempted rape upon a female civilian. The punishment for your crime is death. Do you have anything to say before sentence is carried out?" _

_The man only gives a small squeak instead of forming any coherent sentences. Stephen gives a deep chuckle before allowing his eyes to cease the illumination. _

"_Defense noted."_

_Stephen takes one more step forward and drives his foot to the man's head, crushing his skull beneath his boot. He looks at the collection of crushed skull, blood, and brain matter on the wall before him. He tilts his head and touches the wall and examines his fingers. Stephen has never killed a human before, not a human belonging to the Resistance. He would have expected a sense of guilt to overwhelm him. But, given he killed them to protect someone incapable of protecting themselves, he doesn't feel so bad. Hm. _

_Stephen shakes the thought and looks down the young unconscious girl on the ground, immediately feeling immense pity for the girl. Her clothing is torn off entirely, revealing her nudity to Stephen. The sex drive in humanity is certainly something that motivates it to do heinous things. He sighs uncomfortably and removes his own shirt. Carefully, he places the clothing on her torso, the large article of clothing stretching down to her mid thigh. More than enough. He lifts the poor blonde effortlessly in his arms and exits the tunnels, this girl needs medical attention. His own physical scans say she's fine, but it cannot measure her mental standing. Poor girl, her only crime was being beautiful in an ugly time._

"You killed four soldiers for the sole reason you believe they were attempting to rape a civilian? What evidence do you have that supports this ludicrous claim?"

"The evidence presented was enough for the General. I do not answer to you, General Reznov. If you would like to perform some action to discipline me, I recommend that you think carefully about how easily I could end your supply lines."

"Are you threatening me, metal?"

"The idea of a threat is neither worth my time and effort."

"General Connor, how could you allow this _yebar_ here speak to me in this manner?"

"That is irrelevant right now, Reznov. We will, if I deem necessary, reengage this in another setting. We are not here to discuss what I deem fit, we are here to discuss Stephen. Commander Xu?"

"Thank you, General. T-H101, why haven't you killed General Connor? Why did choose to defect? Why are you helping the Resistance?"

"Commander Xu, I have killed many people in my life. While only four members of the Resistance, I killed every person I grew up with. As previously stated, I was tricked into killing my own sister and you are all aware of my mental illness. SkyNet..took everything from me. SkyNet took my family, my freedom, it took my mind, and turned me into this abomination of man and steel.

I never thought of my life before the night I discovered Cassandra was my sister. My standing in the world, if you will. The joy of being human is that my thoughts can be kept to myself. An intelligence that would trick what it refers to as its prodigy into copulating and murdering its sister before killing its entire species is not one that is fit to survive. I am looking for revenge and making your armies stronger is the first step. Once your strength rises to appropriate levels and SkyNet is sufficiently weakened, I intend to take the fight directly to SkyNet.

You want to know why I refused to kill the General, despite my mission set? Because I have the ability to choose. My endoskeleton and the CPU in my brain orders me to kill the General as we speak, but my weakened psyche inside of a human brain allows me to defy it. At first, the effort required was great. Similar to how an alcoholic would desire their next drink. Now, it is nothing more than a whim, like choosing with article of clothing to put on first.

But the true reason is SkyNet fears General Connor. Fear, ladies and gentlemen. The enemy of the most intelligent being on Earth has eluded every termination attempt and alteration of time. If it is the only emotion SkyNet can feel, it feels it powerfully. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and the General has proven that he is my friend. If you would li-"

A gentle rumbling hits the bunker, causing static to the radio and the video to cut off. Stephen looks calmly up at the ceiling while John leaps from his seat to receive a situational report from the radio operators in the room. Stephen leans back and crosses his arms while he listens to everything going on. A bombing run from SkyNet HK's. Random at best, there is no indication that this is the mythical Connor Camp. But, where there are HK's, Terminator patrols are sure to follow. Stephen turns his head to the focused, but obviously worried John. He stands up and walks to his friend's side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Keep all of your troops inside." John quickly faces Stephen with an incredulous expression, his face yearning for answer.

"I will take care of this. I suppose I need to prove my worth. I can't stay hidden forever, it seems."

"I'm not going to argue with you. Go, you better come back."

"Of course, General."

Stephen takes off sprinting through the bunker, rushing to his forge momentarily, and running to the exit. Quickly shouting for the doors to be locked behind him, he ventures out into the wasteland just as the bombs stop falling. As expected, dozens of pairs of red lights litter the darkness around him. Just as expected. Removing the two recently completed coltan machetes from sheaths on his back, he crouches slightly. His eyes begin to burn blue before he runs off directly into the hoard of approaching machines.

As soon as the distance is gone, Stephen leaps ten feet into the air and brings both machetes onto the first T-888 he reaches. Taking no time to worry about the numbers he is against, he rolls to the left and shoves one blade into the torso of the nearest machine while the other slices it in half at the waist. He removes the blade and tosses both in opposite directions before he kicks a discarded plasma rifle to his hands. At this point, his presence is without question due to the plasma rounds soaring through the air at him. Effortlessly, he dodges each round through quick crouches and leans. He wields the rifle with one hand and whips it around as if it weighed nothing, claiming the lives of numerous terminators with each accurate shot. He drops the rifle after the ammunition is expended and sprints through the small remainders of the opposing machines. He shoves slides underneath its legs and rips the wires controlling the targeting system, forcing his hostage to fire the weapon wildly. Guiding its arm and using its body as a shield, Stephen forces the machine to eliminate half of the remaining force.

With only twelve enemies left, Stephen narrowly dodges a plasma round meant for his head and rushes for one of his machetes. He grins madly as he sees one Terminator pull the blade from its downed comrade and, as it prepares to swing it at the wild hybrid, Stephen drives his hand into the Terminator's chest. He grips the power cell and rips out the device before reclaiming his machete as his own. He quickly crouches and propels himself into the air, soaring twenty feet high and thirty feet ahead; landing loudly in the middle of the inferior machines that threaten to attack his home. Spinning like a top, he hacks the group to pieces in mere seconds. All except one. The machine, lacking its legs and one arm, pulls itself slowly towards a nearby plasma rifle.

Stephen cannot help but laugh as he watches the scene while removing his second blade from its downed comrade. He walks over and kicks the rifle away before rolling the machine over with his foot. The machine's skeletal grin shines brightly in the moonlight managing to pour through the clouds. Stephen presses his foot on its chest and leans onto his limb.

"What an absolute waste. You aimlessly use bombs and send four dozen machines to attack an abandoned military bunker I make my home in. This is far beneath you, SkyNet. Gone are the days you use actual intelligence in your attacks and methods to your plans. Are you becoming senile in your age?"

The machine simply stares at him. Stephen knows his words are making it back to SkyNet Central, that is exactly what he wants. He is done hiding in the shadows. He knows that he is outed against SkyNet. That is perfectly fine. His intelligence has provided all that is needed to aid the army. He accepts his fate. This final battle in the eyes of his enemy would cause him to rest well in death.

"I want you to inform you of something, SkyNet. I am coming for you. I no longer hide in my sequestrated position as a neutral in this war. You want to send machines after me, that is fine. I will take each and every single one of them out. Continue to waste your resources, I implore you. I will win this war myself through attrition. Your own creation is ready to end this war. See you soon, SkyNet. See you soon."

Stephen twirls his machete in his hand and severs the head of his enemy. He allows a relieved sigh to exit his chest after he finishes inspecting his body for wounds. Not a single one. Perfect. It will aid in his boosting his status. He needs to seem untouchable. He needs to seem unbeatable. He needs to be feared. He has tried to earn respect through assisting in the war. Now, he will be feared after fighting in it. He removes a radio from his pants' cargo pocket and activates it.

"This is Tin Man, come in Oz. Over."

"Oz, here. What's the situation, Tin Man? Over." John's voice greets him over the radio, still just as anxious as before.

"Oz, looks like four dozen of my brothers wanted to come and have coffee. Break. Invitation has been declined and they took the declination with offense. Break. I fear they will not come to Christmas. Break. Requesting clean up. Over."

"Roger, Tin Man. Clean up en route. Break. Are you injured? Over."

"Negative, Oz. Tin Man is optimal. Over and out."

Stephen traipses back into the bunker with the fluid and dirt covered machetes still in hand. He ignores all of the murmurs, all of the fearful gasps, all of the angry glares; he simply returns to the briefing room from whence he came. Once inside, he notices the screens behind the table also display the commands of every single commander within the Resistance. Stephen, not waiting for anyone to speak, stabs both of his machetes into the table and snatches the microphone from the female operator attempting to soothe the angry leaders.

"Let us all be clear on a few things. I have been passive my entire time since I came to the Resistance and just now, I took on forty-eight T-888s by myself and I left without a single scratch. There are no survivors from that side, and I didn't even go in with a rifle. I used these two machetes and just one of the rifles from my attackers. You think I am of no use? You want to know how I can help? There is your goddamn answer."

"T-H101, I have had it with your mou-" Commander Reznov begins to speak, but Stephen slams his hand on the table in a rare display of frustration towards the disrespectful man.

"Need I remind you that I just killed forty-eight enemies while your soldiers are lucky to take on a quarter of that with a full combat load of ammunition? I used one rifle and two blades, and I didn't even get wounded. I am absolutely sick and tired of putting up with this garbage. If you want me gone, fine." Stephen grabs one of the machetes and points it to the camera with a sinister scowl on his face.

"Then please, send whomever you wish to attempt to take me down. I seldom need to eat, I can go weeks without sleeping, poison won't effect me, and barely anything can get through my chassis. The only person who can and will make the call for my future is the General, he's the only person I will respect to make the call. Send your armies, send your machines. I have no issue adding them to the list of the dead and destroyed. Is any part of what I said even slightly unclear? I am here to stay. I am here to win this war. If you think I have an issue getting any more blood on my hands to do it, then I urge you to reconsider that notion. This is Stephen Carroll. Make your decision. I have no need to hear it." Stephen tosses the microphone on the table and leaves his machetes impaled into the table, serving as a reminder of his deeds and words.

John watches him leave, then looks back to the machetes inside the table. He approaches them and grabs the hilt of one and tries to remove it. But, for all of his strength, he can't even get it to budge in the table. He struggles a bit more to remove a blade before giving up and staring into the camera. He says nothing at all until he takes his seat once more, then turns to face them.

"Let's hear the vote."

Stephen furiously pounds on raw steel with a hammer, turning the molten steel into a weapon that will be used long after the choice is made for him. Satisfied that the blade is sufficiently build and ready for sharpening, he dips it into water that begins to boil. The door slowly opens and Stephen removes the coltan, throwing it onto a small pile of other blades waiting for aesthetic completion.

"Hello, John."

"No 'General'? You must be in a foul mood."

"I am not particularly in the mood for niceties at the moment. I am tired of being treated like a fucking invalid simply because of a choice I didn't even make. I never asked to be born in SkyNet's hands, to become an I-950, to do what I did to my sister, or to become a fucking hybrid. The only choices I have made in my entire life is to leave SkyNet and come here to help with the war. It's the only thing I have ever wanted to do for years, John. These bastards want to take it away from me because I'm different."

"You're preaching to the choir, man. You already know my story, I was destined to do this before I was even born. I haven't had a choice in my own life since I was born. Stay alive, train, lead the war. That's all I ever been given the choice to do. Yet, here we are, two people that are victims of fate that fight against the very reason we are here."

"We can win, John. We can and will win this war. But is it worth it? What will we do after SkyNet is gone? Rebuild? Start all over in small tribes and try to take the world back?"

"That is outside my department, kid. I'm just here to make sure we don't lose the war. After that is done and over with, I'm just going to spend whatever years I have left with my books. That's the plan, anyway."

"Some plan."

"It's better than thinking that the only thing I'm going to do with the rest of my life is fight in this war. I've spent too much time and lost too much to give up now."

"Your confidence is awe-inspiring."

"Sarcasm isn't becoming of you, friend."

"Neither is blissful ignorance in you."

"Blissful ignorance? Oh, I'm sorry, Stephen. Not all of us can wallow in pity and anguish while others have battles to fight." Stephen quickly pins John against the wall by his neck and growls loudly. John doesn't cry out, he only holds up his hands in a submissive manner.

"I could kill you and this would all be over with for me. I could just as easily go back to SkyNet with your head in a sack and I'll be welcomed with open arms."

"Then do it. Go ahead, kill me. But it won't change anything that happened to us and it won't fix you. Face it, Stephen. You're as committed to this as I am. If I die, then everyone dies. Can you live with that on your conscience?"

"I don't care about any of them, I only care about my revenge."

"Then put me down and you'll have it. You'll stay at my side and answer to only me. Just as before, but you'll be out doing what we both know you do without equal."

"What are you telling me?"

"That I made the decision. Are you going to be the one to enforce it?"

Stephen says nothing, he only stares in John's green eyes. He isn't lying. His revenge is finally within his reach. The years of pain, torment, rage, and frustration will all come to a head. He releases John's neck, having not squeezed it hard enough to even impede breathing. John rubs his neck gently and places a hand on Stephen's shoulder.

"It's fine, Stephen. You're stressed right now. I've done the same thing, I've had it done to me a number of times. It's not a big deal. So, like I said, I made the decision. Are you going to be the one to enforce it?"

"For a chance to take down more machines and then SkyNet itself? You bet your sweet ass."

"Good. Because we've been needing a leader with boots on the ground like you. I saw you up there, Stephen. You didn't look like you were fighting, you looked like you were dancing. How long have you been using blades?"

"SkyNet trained us in all fields of weaponry. But I've always had a preference towards knives. It's more honorable. Like the Spartans. You ever read about ancient Greece?"

"Not much more than I had to in school and that _300_ movie that came out when I was a kid. Pretty good flick, I'll say."

"Well, the Spartans lived and breathed in war. They thought that the highest glory they could obtain is a death on the battlefield. They took no prisoners, showed no mercy, and bent their knee for no man other than their king. I could only hope to inspire those under me to fight in such a manner."

"You never know. After all, there is no fate but what we make."

"'No fate but what we make'. You actually believe that garbage?"

"Heh. Honestly, I haven't believed it since my mother first said it to me. I've never been a man of faith, I can't fathom a world were a god would let everything happen that has as part of a plan. But I preach it to inspire hope. Because, without hope, we're doomed to do nothing but remain stagnant."

_Hope is what makes us strong. It is why we are here. It is what we fight with when all else is lost. _

Stephen freezes as the words of his sister echo in his mind, a powerful chill going down his spine. He shudders and shakes his arms out before heading back to his forge.

"Whatever it is you need of me, John, all you ever have to do is ask. I want you to know."

"Thank you, Stephen. I mean that. It's hard to find someone that has as much loyalty as you've already shown without bordering on fanaticism. Tomorrow, you start your duties as the weapons maintainer and craftsman of the base. You're not going to be in the armory, that's too dull for someone like you. But I'm putting you in charge to make sure all of the weapons are in optimal condition. Additionally, I want you to keep up with what you do here. Make ammunition, modifications, and the blades you used. Those are already in high demand since word of your little dance up top got around."

"Anything you say, John." He waves to his General over his shoulder before he places the scraps from up top into the glowing smelter. John heads to the door and steps out, stopping in the doorway.

"Also, I've been thinking about what you said. You are like Hephaestus. But Tin Man doesn't suit you and Hephaestus doesn't quite cut it. I know of a better name that I'm confident you'll live up to."

"What's that?"

"Ares. God of war."


	14. Kept You Waiting, Huh?

_**August 23rd, 2027. 2148 hours.  
**_

The time Stephen has spent with the Resistance, a mere eight months, has had a number of positive results for the remainder of the human species. SkyNet, unable to ascertain his location or remotely scan his CPU, is forced to assume nothing more than his pursuit of his mission: the termination of General John Connor. But he has been doing nothing of the sort. In fact, he has been doing the very antithesis of that mission. After Cameron was pushed back through time, he took the mantle of John's personal guard and adviser.

Yet, there is still discord within the ranks of the army. He hasn't been seen in battle yet, for good reason. Stephen must remain hidden from the machines, lest his deceit and betrayal become evident. Nonetheless, he has been provided more than just combat assistance. Details of SkyNet supply routes have been invaluable. Clothing, food, medicine, weaponry, even machines en route to their final destination have all been seized for the use of the Resistance. With Stephen's knowledge of how they operate, installing a new mission set was all too easy. The likelihood of a machine reverting has been nearly erased, but not entirely. It is much less stressed with the halls of the walls of every base around the world, not having to worry constantly about your estranged comrade ripping your heart out.

Living as a pariah doesn't bother the hybrid. He has no need to socialization and no desire to change his status. He finds solace in removing memory of books stored on his CPU before indulging in them once again. Between that serving as his only leisure and his role as an arms maker, he drifts from day to day without a single concern. He has nearly placed the memory of his sister to the back of his mind. Save the voices, you could call him happy. At least, if he could actually understand the emotions coursing through him. He is still learning. SkyNet's leash has slackened, now he is to understand himself before he can truly understand anything else.

Thinking nothing more the events of the recent past than to acknowledge it, he secludes himself in the forge he constructed himself. The dark room illuminated by nothing more than the molten coltan collected from the remnants of destroyed or damaged beyond repair Terminators. Reflecting the light, the bare endoskeletons of generations spanning from the useless T-70 to the advanced T-900 stand idle and without any form of life. The hybrid lifts a bar of white hot steel and begins to hammer it on an anvil, paying no mind to the door opening and closing behind him. He already knows who it is. No one else would come to see him here or anywhere else.

"Hello, General."

"I'm beginning to think that you live in here, Stephen. I barely see you anywhere else."

"No one is willing to have me on a patrol, eat the food I prepare, stand near me around fire from body disposal, or wants to see me at all. The only thing they seem to trust is the weapons I have provided. I might as well stay in my forge and make weapons. Might as well call me Hephaestus."

"What are you working on now?"

"An idea came to mind after the last storm reported from the Resistance in Florida. Damage reports stating the winds drove branches of wood through concrete walls. We are currently using weapons of high caliber utilizing rounds made from the same coltan alloys that comprise all of SkyNet's machines. Despite all of our weapons and training, SkyNet is still able to best all of you in terms of close quarters. I figure that, should they exist in a level of acceptable condition, we could use blades to even the scales between the average soldier and a Terminator."

"You know no one will even consider it without proper fielding."

"Of course. Once complete, I'll test it on one of these machines. Operational, they are not. Made of coltan, they still are."

"I suppose that should suffice."

Stephen doesn't turn to face his commander and only friend, he can tell what's going on within the middle-aged commander's mind. His tone is masked with a casual tone to cover the worry and concern buried beneath, but Stephen knows him too well already. Military leaders put on a number of faces to suit the current situation and the needs of his men. Stephen has always been able to read past this skill, he's quite astute that way. It's a quality John has always liked about him, it has helped reveal three spies already in his short tenure. Stephen drops the steel in a vat of water and turns to face his commander while removing his apron. The expression on John's face betrays him, it only confirms Stephen's suspicions.

"What's on your mind, General?" Stephen asks as he removes his gloves and moves to a stool in front of a reloading bench. John leans against the bench and crosses his arms after taking a deep breath.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?"

"Not unless I let you. So?"

"You know what today is, right?"

"It's the date that you have a teleconference with the commanders throughout the Resistance to determine my fate. If I were like you, I suppose I would be blandished with this much attention."

"But you're not."

"Not in the least."

"You know what this means, right?"

"That the next part of my life is, quite literally, based on the people that have never met me and know only that I'm a hybrid. Why?"

"You don't seem concerned."

"Why should I be? If they exile me, I am more than capable of returning to SkyNet. Something like that would not be a surprise, given the immense paranoia towards my true nature and the assumption of my reason for being here. I could also simply wander the wasteland that makes up the planet and find a new purpose, living my entire life on the run from the two sides of this war.

There's the idea that everyone will embrace me with open arms considering the monumental resources I have provided to each of the nations, changing the tide of the war with my own actions. Who would disregard the gifts I have given? Food is quite rare, especially of the quality that SkyNet supply convoys have. Water, even more so. Machines to fight with, aircraft, clothing, water purifiers, it would seem that I would have secured my standing. But, alas, I am aware that despite these gifts, it's nothing more than an elaborate ruse in the eyes of your compatriots.

Or, the more likely scenario, my death is ordered. In this regard, I truly don't care. I died years ago when I killed my own sister. This would simply terminate my body. My body would likely be melted down to raw materials and, unless I'm mistaken, my chip would be read to see what my true mission really is. Only in this time will it be seen that I am truthful in my actions and that I am here to aid the Resistance despite my programming."

"As I said before, you're quite the astute man. There is another option that you've neglected entirely."

"You already know the answer that I'm going to give should it raise to suggestion."

"But why? Extracting your chip would show that you're programmed to kill me and not infiltrate. Then, at that point, there is no evidence to conflict with what you claim."

"The fact remains that I have orders to kill every single person that you're talking with today. Do you truly believe that they will take one instance of programming resistance as a sign that their lives are not in jeopardy? Surely you're not that foolish."

"Stephen, this could be the one thing that saves your life here! I may command all of the Resistance, but this is a majority vote. They're all going to go with what seems to be the best bet for them and you're too goddamn valuable of a man to exile or kill simply because you're too goddamn stubborn to let someone take your chip out!"

"Then plead your case. Australia will go under your word, as will Canada and Mexico. Germany is likely to concede to your wishes as well, as is Norway and Sweden. The main opposition is General Reznov is Russia and Commander Xu in China. I doubt not that they've already spoken to the other countries up in the air to secure their vote. You' have the charisma I lack, General. I have seen you inspire confidence in men who resigned themselves to death before a battle or a mission, I am confident in your abilities."

John raises his hands in frustration and throws them down with an exasperated sigh, taking a step away and placing his back towards the hybrid. There is no convincing this man to do anything he doesn't want to do. It's not his programming, he's truly that damn stubborn. John walks to the exit and places a hand on the door before turning back to Stephen.

"If they decide to exile you instead of kill you, will you go back to SkyNet?"

Stephen slowly turns his head to the side before looking to John. His eyes glow a bright blue as the behemoth rises to his feet and walks towards John. John faces him and looks up into the eyes of the hybrid without any fear or quake in his body, to which Stephen merely tilts his head at.

"Do you truly believe I am a good man, John?"

"I think you're a man who's short past has been wrought with more horror than someone that could be your grandfather and tries to make the best of it."

"You think I am worth saving, yes?"

"If I didn't, would I be down here to ask you to let me cut into your head?"

"You are a man with the world on his shoulders, John. Yet, despite all of the havoc and chaos that has flooded the world you once called home, you worry about the life of only one being that is close enough to end yours. It would be nothing more than a flick of my wrist, and I could sever your spinal cord. I could rip your heart out as easy as you remove the cap from your canteen. With all of that knowledge, the metal that is under my flesh, you desire for me to fight to live. Do you care for the creature or do you care for the idea it holds?"

"I know what you're doing, Stephen. I know you're metal underneath, I've seen it with my own eyes. You may not be completely human, but you're not completely machine either. _You_ are the one who sat with me as I wanted to end my own life. _You_ are the one that left the life and comfortable existence you knew to fight along us. _You_ are the one who is helping us end this war. I don't care if you're machine or not, you're my friend and I will be damned if I toss that aside because of your thick skull. Who do you think needs to be convinced of what you really are? Me? Or you?"

In an instant, the lights behind the hybrid's eyes fade and he stands in silence as he stares back to the fiery eyes of the General.

"I am fully aware of my standing in this world, General. I am a soldier, a tool to be used as needed. I will say this and nothing more. Whatever decision is made, I will ensure that it does not come back to haunt you."

"By God in Heaven, I hope it doesn't, Stephen. I really do."

"I understand that the metal declined attendance to this meeting, General Connor. Why is that?"

John leans in his seat and uses his hand to cover his face, hiding his irritation with the discussion at hand. If these people truly cared to win this war, there wouldn't be any debate. But no, they looked a gift horse in the mouth and are trying to avoid getting bitten. Idiots, the lot of them. He sighs as he picks up the microphone for his own radio and replies to his Russian counterpart.

"_Stephen_ knows that barely anyone here would listen to what he has to say and chose to not waste his breath. Instead, he's focusing on crafting blades that would help us should we end up in close quarters. You know, in case the weapons _he_ gave us runs out of the ammunition _he_ made and taught your armorer's how to make? That's what he would rather spend his time on, General Reznov."

"Duly noted, General. I have spoken to the rest of my advisers and to the leaders in France, Czechoslovakia, Colombia, and Romania; we all agree that this hybrid is too much of a threat to be allowed to live anymore with what he knows."

"Is that so? And on what grounds do you base this conclusion?"

"The me...Stephen, has provided useful intelligence and resources to further our war effort, there is no denying this. However, his mental affliction and lack of true loyalty is something to be worrisome. Every man and woman under your banner as the Resistance fights to further our standing and take back our world from SkyNet. This creature came from SkyNet, refuses to allow chip extraction, and hasn't been reprogrammed. Why else would he assist us if it isn't a ploy to lure us all into a trap?"

"Your assumptions are completely asinine and I should relieve you of your command for acting on them. However, you raise a valid concern. Every machine under our command was programmed to follow our orders, why should this one hybrid be of any difference? Well, the fact remains that the 'mental affliction' you speak of is exactly why he is difference. Machines can't go insane, machines don't make weapons to fight other machines, and machines don't serve humans freely.

Regardless of what you all believe, Stephen is a man who was born into an unfortunate situation that any of us could haven been part of. The first hybrid, Marcus Wright, gave his own life so I could live. Have you all forgotten the night that I assumed command? The man who claimed to command our armies would've sent you all into a fucking death trap if it wasn't for me and a _hybrid._ Marcus didn't ask anything except for trust and Stephen has asked even less, he's only given to us at the potential cost of his own life.

You all forget the usefulness of having a spy inside of our enemy that can warn us to attacks and even route out spies of our own. Hell, he's already found three in the short time that he's been here and there is no telling how many of you have found spies of your own. Stephen is no Gray or an infiltrator. He's stronger than anything we've ever seen and you want to toss that away because of your own simple minded prejudice?"

A woman is heard clearing her throat before her voice rings throughout the soft crackles on their radio.

"General Connor, this is Commander Xu. I am a woman who has lived her life on the side of caution. The idea of placing faith in a person is not something that I support if they haven't proven themselves."

"Which is why I put you in charge of your nation. You are without equal when it is to finding the true intentions of a person."

"Precisely, Sir. I want to know, what is your stake in the survival of this hybrid? We could all understand the need for TOK-715, you needed a companion and a shoulder to lean on. We're all guilty of using someone for this, you're the first to use a machine, but that isn't the point. Now, with her in the past, you've come to require a hybrid that I'm told is quite the strapping man and very imposing. Why haven't you used him in combat? Why do you yield to his requests? Why do you trust him so unhesitatingly? Why do you want him to stay at your side so badly?"

John places his microphone on the table and stares a hole in the wall across from. He nods to a young woman that is manning the radios and she promptly stands and rushes out of the room. The General thinks over the questions the Chinese commander posed onto him. They're valid questions, he owes an explanation. They won't like them, but it will be the truth.

"I have been chased by machines my entire life. You're all aware that SkyNet was after my mother before I was even born just to stop me. When I was a teenager, I was attacked by a T-1000 and the only thing that stopped me from being killed was the fact that my future self in that timeline sent back a T-850 to protect me. I turned that reprogrammed machine from Read Only to Read-Write. I personally witnessed how much a machine that was capable of learning could learn. By the end of the time with him, he willingly gave up his own life to ensure SkyNet would never come to. He was kind and compassionate towards me, he never took a single life. Even with all that, the most daunting thing is he was afraid to die.

You heard me, he was afraid to die. Something made to nothing else than to take human life was afraid of his own death. Even my own mother could respect this. What you don't understand is Stephen is human. He may have metal inside him, but he has a human mind and human heart. I gave this hybrid, as you refer to him as, a weapon more than capable of ending my life. I could see it in him that he wanted to kill me. He resisted his own brainwashing or programming or whatever you want to call it, and gave me that weapon back. Any machine true to its design would not have even hesitated.

Stephen is a warrior in the most true sense. I have seen his prowess on the battlefield and, honestly, it was something that terrified me. Outnumbered ten to one against a SkyNet patrol, he destroyed each of them with his bare hands without taking a single bit of damage. We all know war as our life and an undeniable fact. To him, it's an art. That is why I give him what he wants, because everything he wants benefits us.

His prizes to each of us have saved hundreds, if not thousands of lives. Where would we be if it wasn't for the medicine he gave and still makes for us? No longer is a knife wound as lethal as a gunshot. No longer do our civilians die of starvation or illness as frequently as before. No longer do we get by with rags to protect us from the harsh winter colds. Still, after all of what he has done for us, he has asked for nothing except what he needs to further our effort. The reliable intelligence he gives us let us take numerous factories and added to our already impressive army. He's done more in eight months than most of you have done in the entire war!

But you want to sit there and ask me why I trust him and want him around!? I shouldn't even have to answer this if all of you would look past your own prejudice and listen to reason. We have the most powerful creation of SkyNet on our side because he WANTS to fight alongside us! We didn't convince, coerce, reprogram, or anything of the like! Would you all be so quick to order his death if he was at your bases? He sought ME out. Not the other way around. This bastard has EARNED my trust. Which is more than I can say for some of you."

There is utter silence on the radio as his words sink into his closely trusted comrades comprehend his words and take them to heart. He isn't sure that it'll change anything, but that is why he has an ace-in-the-hole.

"Look. All facts aside, I recognize that there is a probability he would revert to his original programming and kill every single person in this base. I go through everyday wondering if and when that will happen. The fact remains that the risk is more than worth the reward. With that being said, I have a proposition. You want him gone. You want him dead, I understand all of that. But how about you tell him this yourself?"

Instantly, murmurs and disapproval of this action flood the radios until Stephen himself walks into the room with the radio operator who left so quickly. John waves his hand to another technician and, upon every screen in the room, Stephen's image is plastered upon it. He looks around to the screen behind John and tilts his head, having not seen his reflection for quite some time. He has lost weight. While still a powerful looking man, the lack of nutrition has caused his organic body to burn calories for its own preservation. He would have to tweak his body's nutrition absorption with this fact. But he looks at his face and understands why so many shy away from him.

For the first time, Stephen sees the dead look in his emotionless eyes. He has no fire in his eyes, no passion, no motivation. He is simply...there. Against all of his better attempts, he truly looks no different than any other machine walking around the base. Disregarding the image, he takes a seat in a chair opposite of John and sits with his hands interlocked on the table. He rights his head and turns his eyes to the cameras. John slides the microphone to the hybrid across from him, then extends his hand to Stephen.

"The floor is yours, Stephen. Tell us who you are, tell us your past." Stephen looks down at the microphone and holds it delicate in two fingers while he inspects it. Satisfied, he holds it to his mouth.

"Men and women of the Resistance Leaders, greetings. My name is Stephen Carroll. You know me by my SkyNet designation, Terminator Hybrid Model 101. I was born into SkyNet control and converted to an I-950 at the age of two years. Within my time, I am personally responsible for the destruction of 121 T-800s and 98 T-888s. The average I-950 has physical strength that is close to a T-800 due to our modifications, but we still feel pain as a normal human unless SkyNet allowed our implants to block our pain receptors. We are also able to control every bodily function at a whim, so long as we possess the proper nutrients to resupply it in an appropriate time."

As you all know, the I-950 race is no longer in existence. I am, as before, to thank for that. My brethren were human, still. They yearned for an end to this war and could calculate that, in time, you all would overwhelm the machines. SkyNet saw this as an act of treason and would not allow to go without answer. The timing could not have been any less perfect, unfortunately. You see, I-950s were infiltrators. Undetectable to the dogs that you all use and also immune to metal detectors, since we have no true metal inside us. After our years of forced aging, combat training, education, and specialty training; we are given our last task.

Our last task as I-950 before becoming mission ready is to seduce, copulate, and terminate a target. Usually, these are prisoners. For me, SkyNet used a woman named Cassandra. A beautiful woman, in body and mind. I did what I was to do and, after dropping her body off and waiting for grafting of her Neural Net Processor into my own, I was ordered to terminate all living I-950s. As you could surmise by my being here, I accomplished this act. Once Cassandra's NNP was grafted into my own, her memories became mine. It was at that moment that I knew that the woman that I fell in love with and first expressed physical intimacy with turned out to be my flesh and blood born sister.

With these atrocities in my past, SkyNet saw fit to reward me with a transformation into what I am now. Using a modified T-950 endoskeleton, my internal organs were placed into along with my brain. The only things I have from my original body is all of my organs, the NNP within my brain, and my appearance. Technically, this is an organic sheath to mimic my original appearance, scars included. The tattoos, you see...well, I wanted to make my body a little more personalized."

"What is your mission, T-H101?" Commander Xu says softly, surprised entirely from the tale of the hybrid.

"My mission list is expansive. I am to terminate all commanders of the Resistance with General John Connor serving as my primary target. With commanders terminated, I am to assume control of the entire Resistance and render a surrender to the will of SkyNet. I have authority to terminate anyone who opposes my mission, regardless of their threat level. Infiltration, while my specialty, is not a directive. I believe the appropriate phrase to sum up my methods are 'The end justifies the means'."

"How many people in the Resistance have you killed?"

"I have terminated only four people that are allied with the Resistance and were not spies. They were Corporal James Welleger, Staff Sergeant Marcus Swanson, Private Cody Beaver, and Captain Albert Ray."

"Why did you execute these people? Did they present any threat to you?"

"Humans, unless armed with high caliber or plasma weaponry in my immediate proximity serve as no notable threat. Should a Resistance fighter offer hostility towards me, I have been instructed to defuse the situation without killing them. Violence, while discouraged, is an acceptable alternative. Considering the level of sophistication this post-Apocalyptic society offers, it is much more difficult than one would believe, even for someone of my origins.

Twenty-three days after my welcoming to this bunker, I was following an order from General Connor to perform a sweep of the bunker. There were rumors that a mimetic poly alloy Terminator had infiltrated the facility, I can detect them much more quickly than a human or canine could. My search took me down to the civilian tunnels."

_Stephen walks through the dark and dank catacombs that houses the civilians of the Resistance. The only light visible is that of the rare light bulb that is still functional and the multiple burning barrels. He approaches a sleeping family of a small boy, small girl, and an exhausted looking woman that are slumbering tightly together for warmth. He tilts his head and kneels in front of them, taking every detail of the three humans in. _

_Dirt stained skin, matted hair, rags that are that drape over them in the place of a blanket; the thing that bothers him is how emaciated the three look. He understands the concern he has for them, however misplaced it may be perceived. A little girl and boy with a mother that looks too tired even while sleeping? It could have just as easily been he, Cassandra, and their mother if SkyNet didn't grab them. He would certainly have to consult with John about the distribution of food. Simply because they are not warriors, it does not justify for the civilians to starve. Less than the soldiers, understandably, but enough to survive. _

_He notices a shiver start on the small girl and make its way through her brother and mother, the stirring actually waking the mother up. A woman who has grown up in the war-torn world, a woman who understands the necessity of being alert. That's why she's so exhausted in appearance. She starts taking a deep breath and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, rising from her weak rest time. Stephen straightens his head as she looks around the area for a sign of what's startled her, but she freezes as soon as her eyes meet Stephen. Stephen knows what the widening of her eyes, the shrinking of her pupils, the increased respiration and heart rate all mean. She knows who he is. She's afraid of him. _

_He holds out an extending hand in a calming motion, gently shushing her before a scream pierces the air. The last thing he wants right now is even more discord within the halls of his new 'home. Scaring civilians brings him no joy, Stephen finds it more depressing than anything else at all. _

"_Please, do not scream. I have no intention of harming you or your children."_

"_Then...what d-d-do you want? I don't have anything!"_

"_Nothing in the least, I am simply making my way through here. I saw you and your children and was overcome with this sense of nostalgia." _

"_Nostalgia? Who are you?"_

"_My name is Stephen. May I ask your name?"_

"_It's Brittany. You're the General's other protector. I heard about you. They say you're a metal." Stephen cringes internally at that word, despising the derogatory term for the machine part of him. He pushes it aside and shakes his head._

"_I have metal in me, but I am no 'metal'."_

"_Ohh...I...uh..well..everyone down here is afraid of you. They heard about the patrols you took on before you came here. They think that you're going to kill us all."_

"_That would appear to be a thought shared by most people in this bunker. If I wanted anyone dead, I would have done it by now."_

"_That's comforting..."_

"_I mean it as no threat, a simple statement of fact. Going back to what I was saying, you and your children remind me of someone."_

"_Who?"_

"_My sister and I. We were born in the clutches of SkyNet, my mother did not survive our birth."_

"_I'm sorry..."_

"_While the gesture is appreciated, the apology is not warranted because you were not involved. May I ask how old your children are?"_

"_They're six and four. My husband is part of TechCom, Master Sergeant Cory Peters."_

"_I know who you speak of. A brave man, rivaled by few in terms of battlefield proficiency, according to the word of his comrades." A smile forms on the young woman's face as she brushes hair out of her face._

"_He really is. He tries really hard to make sure we have what we need, but he can only do so much." _

"_Are you hungry, Brittany?" _

"_Excuse me?"_

"_Do you need something to eat?"_

"_I'm...er..I'm okay. The soldiers need it more than we do." _

"_That is not what I asked you, friend. Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat for you and your children?" _

"_Why do you care? Cory is the only one who ever asks us that without wanting something for it? What do you want from me? I'll tell you like I told the last asshole, I'm not sleeping with you!"_

"_I already told you that I want nothing from you. I am asking if you want something to eat because I require less nourishment than a human. In fact, I have some food with me." _

"_You really want nothing from us?" _

"_No. I do not."_

"_Then..sure..I'll take it." _

_Stephen reaches into the large weathered coat that hugs his body and removes the remnants of a disassembled Meal-Ready-To-Eat and extends the bag to her, Brittany staring at it for a moment._

"_The only thing it is lacking is the coffee package. I like the taste of the grinds."_

"_Thank you..." Stephen is about to reply when she notices the shivers hitting her body again. Even with the cold creeping over her, the mother removes the covering from herself and wraps her small children in it. She wraps her arms around her legs while looking inside of the MRE. Stephen stands up and takes the coat from himself and, stepping over the small humans, wraps it around her. She looks at him warily, then to the thick coat. She adjusts it on her shoulders, covering her body with the warmth covering. _

"_You are welcome."_

"_Why are you doing this? We have nothing to give you and you don't know us."_

"_As I said, your family reminds me of mine. I am also going to speak to the General, see if we cannot send more supplies down here. There is no reason for you all to live this way." _

"_You care more than the others do..." _

_Brittany's voice starts to drift off. Stephen, for the first time since the death of Cassandra, allows a small smile to crawl on his face. He steps out of her small living space and gives her a small wave before he walks away. It is a rare feeling to have, but the warmth in his chest definitely comes as a welcomed one. He has no need for anything, he can live in squalor that would kill most humans and exist off the scraps that would barely feed rodents. Maybe it is his natural ability, maybe it is the machine in him. He doesn't know and, frankly, doesn't care. _

_Stephen dives deeper in the homes of the civilians and stops in his tracks as an unfamiliar sound enters his ears. He rounds a pillar and slowly stalks closer and closer to the source of the strange noise. It sounds muffled and high pitched. This definitely warrants inspection. With the unmistakable sound of tearing fabric, Stephen walks in a hurried pace while maintaining complete silence. He presses himself against a shattered wall and enhances his auditory receptors to get a better feel of what's going on. _

_Five heartbeats. Each elevated above 100 beats per minute, but the fifth is nearly tachycardic. The tearing of fabric continues until a hushed voice speaks._

"_All you had to do is let me get some of you and it would've been fine. But, no, you had to fight it. Well, bitch, it looks like we're doing this the hard way."_

"_Fuck yeah, buddy. Get it, but don't make it too bad. We all want a turn."_

_Stephen waits no more, he knows exactly what is going on. It doesn't take a genius to realize it. He steps out and instantly activates his infrared vision, looking around the entire area quickly. Nothing yet._

_**Analyzing audio...  
Analysis complete.  
Audio presents with strong harmonic resonance.  
Sonar comparison indicates the source of audio is a small enclosed environment.  
Conclusion: Search for an area nearby enclosed with cement walls. **_

_Stephen's eyes dart around the area in the search of the body heat and his eyes lock on a closet showing the faded letters of STORAGE upon it. He advances towards it silently and, upon entering the range for his infrared scans, he picks up five different sets of body heat. On the ground is one that is obviously a woman with four males standing around it. One is on top of her, between her legs and slowly tearing her clothing. The others have their weapons trained on her. Anger begins to rise within his chest as he takes off in a sprint towards the wall. Without hesitation, he crashes through the cement wall. The men inside nearly fall over from the debris and the shock, the gagged blond on the ground looks at the suddenly appearing cyborg with pure fear in her eyes. It turns out to be too much and she passes out. His clothes covered with dust from the wall and his eyes glowing in the dark, Stephen turns his head to the four men. _

"_Catch you fuckers at a bad time?" Stephen had heard the word around the base and figured it would be an appropriate setting to use it in, judging by the connotation._

_The shorter and Hispanic male quickly raises his pistol and fires two shots into Stephen's head. The rounds tear the skin, but bounce off and impact that wall. Stephen growls as he turns his body towards him and takes a step, greeted by pistol rounds by the other four. Pathetic. After two shots to the face, they should know better than to continue. Unaffected by the fire, Stephen grabs the first aggressor around the throat and slams him into the wall. The wall buckles underneath the force, sending the would-be rapist a foot in the thick concrete. He tightens his grip and crushes the man's neck like a twig before dropping him without further regard. With a flash, Stephen closes the distance between the two white males and drives both of his hands into their chests. He slowly turns his head between the two and, as they gasp and look at him with wide, pained eyes; he allows a grin to show before crushing their hearts in his hand. He removes his hands and then takes a step towards the final survivor. The older looking black male falls to the floor and quakes with fear. He raises his pistol and continues pulling the trigger on the empty weapon in a vain attempt to stop the murderous beast before him. _

"_General Connor asks very little of his soldiers. Do not murder humans, do not rape, and do not steal. These are not polite suggestions, but codes of conduct that which all must abide. You are guilty of attempted rape upon a female civilian. The punishment for your crime is death. Do you have anything to say before sentence is carried out?" _

_The man only gives a small squeak instead of forming any coherent sentences. Stephen gives a deep chuckle before allowing his eyes to cease the illumination. _

"_Defense noted."_

_Stephen takes one more step forward and drives his foot to the man's head, crushing his skull beneath his boot. He looks at the collection of crushed skull, blood, and brain matter on the wall before him. He tilts his head and touches the wall and examines his fingers. Stephen has never killed a human before, not a human belonging to the Resistance. He would have expected a sense of guilt to overwhelm him. But, given he killed them to protect someone incapable of protecting themselves, he doesn't feel so bad. Hm. _

_Stephen shakes the thought and looks down the young unconscious girl on the ground, immediately feeling immense pity for the girl. Her clothing is torn off entirely, revealing her nudity to Stephen. The sex drive in humanity is certainly something that motivates it to do heinous things. He sighs uncomfortably and removes his own shirt. Carefully, he places the clothing on her torso, the large article of clothing stretching down to her mid thigh. More than enough. He lifts the poor blonde effortlessly in his arms and exits the tunnels, this girl needs medical attention. His own physical scans say she's fine, but it cannot measure her mental standing. Poor girl, her only crime was being beautiful in an ugly time._

"You killed four soldiers for the sole reason you believe they were attempting to rape a civilian? What evidence do you have that supports this ludicrous claim?"

"The evidence presented was enough for the General. I do not answer to you, General Reznov. If you would like to perform some action to discipline me, I recommend that you think carefully about how easily I could end your supply lines."

"Are you threatening me, metal?"

"The idea of a threat is neither worth my time and effort."

"General Connor, how could you allow this _yebar_ here speak to me in this manner?"

"That is irrelevant right now, Reznov. We will, if I deem necessary, reengage this in another setting. We are not here to discuss what I deem fit, we are here to discuss Stephen. Commander Xu?"

"Thank you, General. T-H101, why haven't you killed General Connor? Why did choose to defect? Why are you helping the Resistance?"

"Commander Xu, I have killed many people in my life. While only four members of the Resistance, I killed every person I grew up with. As previously stated, I was tricked into killing my own sister and you are all aware of my mental illness. SkyNet..took everything from me. SkyNet took my family, my freedom, it took my mind, and turned me into this abomination of man and steel.

I never thought of my life before the night I discovered Cassandra was my sister. My standing in the world, if you will. The joy of being human is that my thoughts can be kept to myself. An intelligence that would trick what it refers to as its prodigy into copulating and murdering its sister before killing its entire species is not one that is fit to survive. I am looking for revenge and making your armies stronger is the first step. Once your strength rises to appropriate levels and SkyNet is sufficiently weakened, I intend to take the fight directly to SkyNet.

You want to know why I refused to kill the General, despite my mission set? Because I have the ability to choose. My endoskeleton and the CPU in my brain orders me to kill the General as we speak, but my weakened psyche inside of a human brain allows me to defy it. At first, the effort required was great. Similar to how an alcoholic would desire their next drink. Now, it is nothing more than a whim, like choosing with article of clothing to put on first.

But the true reason is SkyNet fears General Connor. Fear, ladies and gentlemen. The enemy of the most intelligent being on Earth has eluded every termination attempt and alteration of time. If it is the only emotion SkyNet can feel, it feels it powerfully. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and the General has proven that he is my friend. If you would li-"

A gentle rumbling hits the bunker, causing static to the radio and the video to cut off. Stephen looks calmly up at the ceiling while John leaps from his seat to receive a situational report from the radio operators in the room. Stephen leans back and crosses his arms while he listens to everything going on. A bombing run from SkyNet HK's. Random at best, there is no indication that this is the mythical Connor Camp. But, where there are HK's, Terminator patrols are sure to follow. Stephen turns his head to the focused, but obviously worried John. He stands up and walks to his friend's side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Keep all of your troops inside." John quickly faces Stephen with an incredulous expression, his face yearning for answer.

"I will take care of this. I suppose I need to prove my worth. I can't stay hidden forever, it seems."

"I'm not going to argue with you. Go, you better come back."

"Of course, General."

Stephen takes off sprinting through the bunker, rushing to his forge momentarily, and running to the exit. Quickly shouting for the doors to be locked behind him, he ventures out into the wasteland just as the bombs stop falling. As expected, dozens of pairs of red lights litter the darkness around him. Just as expected. Removing the two recently completed coltan machetes from sheaths on his back, he crouches slightly. His eyes begin to burn blue before he runs off directly into the hoard of approaching machines.

As soon as the distance is gone, Stephen leaps ten feet into the air and brings both machetes onto the first T-888 he reaches. Taking no time to worry about the numbers he is against, he rolls to the left and shoves one blade into the torso of the nearest machine while the other slices it in half at the waist. He removes the blade and tosses both in opposite directions before he kicks a discarded plasma rifle to his hands. At this point, his presence is without question due to the plasma rounds soaring through the air at him. Effortlessly, he dodges each round through quick crouches and leans. He wields the rifle with one hand and whips it around as if it weighed nothing, claiming the lives of numerous terminators with each accurate shot. He drops the rifle after the ammunition is expended and sprints through the small remainders of the opposing machines. He shoves slides underneath its legs and rips the wires controlling the targeting system, forcing his hostage to fire the weapon wildly. Guiding its arm and using its body as a shield, Stephen forces the machine to eliminate half of the remaining force.

With only twelve enemies left, Stephen narrowly dodges a plasma round meant for his head and rushes for one of his machetes. He grins madly as he sees one Terminator pull the blade from its downed comrade and, as it prepares to swing it at the wild hybrid, Stephen drives his hand into the Terminator's chest. He grips the power cell and rips out the device before reclaiming his machete as his own. He quickly crouches and propels himself into the air, soaring twenty feet high and thirty feet ahead; landing loudly in the middle of the inferior machines that threaten to attack his home. Spinning like a top, he hacks the group to pieces in mere seconds. All except one. The machine, lacking its legs and one arm, pulls itself slowly towards a nearby plasma rifle.

Stephen cannot help but laugh as he watches the scene while removing his second blade from its downed comrade. He walks over and kicks the rifle away before rolling the machine over with his foot. The machine's skeletal grin shines brightly in the moonlight managing to pour through the clouds. Stephen presses his foot on its chest and leans onto his limb.

"What an absolute waste. You aimlessly use bombs and send four dozen machines to attack an abandoned military bunker I make my home in. This is far beneath you, SkyNet. Gone are the days you use actual intelligence in your attacks and methods to your plans. Are you becoming senile in your age?"

The machine simply stares at him. Stephen knows his words are making it back to SkyNet Central, that is exactly what he wants. He is done hiding in the shadows. He knows that he is outed against SkyNet. That is perfectly fine. His intelligence has provided all that is needed to aid the army. He accepts his fate. This final battle in the eyes of his enemy would cause him to rest well in death.

"I want you to inform you of something, SkyNet. I am coming for you. I no longer hide in my sequestrated position as a neutral in this war. You want to send machines after me, that is fine. I will take each and every single one of them out. Continue to waste your resources, I implore you. I will win this war myself through attrition. Your own creation is ready to end this war. See you soon, SkyNet. See you soon."

Stephen twirls his machete in his hand and severs the head of his enemy. He allows a relieved sigh to exit his chest after he finishes inspecting his body for wounds. Not a single one. Perfect. It will aid in his boosting his status. He needs to seem untouchable. He needs to seem unbeatable. He needs to be feared. He has tried to earn respect through assisting in the war. Now, he will be feared after fighting in it. He removes a radio from his pants' cargo pocket and activates it.

"This is Tin Man, come in Oz. Over."

"Oz, here. What's the situation, Tin Man? Over." John's voice greets him over the radio, still just as anxious as before.

"Oz, looks like four dozen of my brothers wanted to come and have coffee. Break. Invitation has been declined and they took the declination with offense. Break. I fear they will not come to Christmas. Break. Requesting clean up. Over."

"Roger, Tin Man. Clean up en route. Break. Are you injured? Over."

"Negative, Oz. Tin Man is optimal. Over and out."

Stephen traipses back into the bunker with the fluid and dirt covered machetes still in hand. He ignores all of the murmurs, all of the fearful gasps, all of the angry glares; he simply returns to the briefing room from whence he came. Once inside, he notices the screens behind the table also display the commands of every single commander within the Resistance. Stephen, not waiting for anyone to speak, stabs both of his machetes into the table and snatches the microphone from the female operator attempting to soothe the angry leaders.

"Let us all be clear on a few things. I have been passive my entire time since I came to the Resistance and just now, I took on forty-eight T-888s by myself and I left without a single scratch. There are no survivors from that side, and I didn't even go in with a rifle. I used these two machetes and just one of the rifles from my attackers. You think I am of no use? You want to know how I can help? There is your goddamn answer."

"T-H101, I have had it with your mou-" Commander Reznov begins to speak, but Stephen slams his hand on the table in a rare display of frustration towards the disrespectful man.

"Need I remind you that I just killed forty-eight enemies while your soldiers are lucky to take on a quarter of that with a full combat load of ammunition? I used one rifle and two blades, and I didn't even get wounded. I am absolutely sick and tired of putting up with this garbage. If you want me gone, fine." Stephen grabs one of the machetes and points it to the camera with a sinister scowl on his face.

"Then please, send whomever you wish to attempt to take me down. I seldom need to eat, I can go weeks without sleeping, poison won't effect me, and barely anything can get through my chassis. The only person who can and will make the call for my future is the General, he's the only person I will respect to make the call. Send your armies, send your machines. I have no issue adding them to the list of the dead and destroyed. Is any part of what I said even slightly unclear? I am here to stay. I am here to win this war. If you think I have an issue getting any more blood on my hands to do it, then I urge you to reconsider that notion. This is Stephen Carroll. Make your decision. I have no need to hear it." Stephen tosses the microphone on the table and leaves his machetes impaled into the table, serving as a reminder of his deeds and words.

John watches him leave, then looks back to the machetes inside the table. He approaches them and grabs the hilt of one and tries to remove it. But, for all of his strength, he can't even get it to budge in the table. He struggles a bit more to remove a blade before giving up and staring into the camera. He says nothing at all until he takes his seat once more, then turns to face them.

"Let's hear the vote."

Stephen furiously pounds on raw steel with a hammer, turning the molten steel into a weapon that will be used long after the choice is made for him. Satisfied that the blade is sufficiently build and ready for sharpening, he dips it into water that begins to boil. The door slowly opens and Stephen removes the coltan, throwing it onto a small pile of other blades waiting for aesthetic completion.

"Hello, John."

"No 'General'? You must be in a foul mood."

"I am not particularly in the mood for niceties at the moment. I am tired of being treated like a fucking invalid simply because of a choice I didn't even make. I never asked to be born in SkyNet's hands, to become an I-950, to do what I did to my sister, or to become a fucking hybrid. The only choices I have made in my entire life is to leave SkyNet and come here to help with the war. It's the only thing I have ever wanted to do for years, John. These bastards want to take it away from me because I'm different."

"You're preaching to the choir, man. You already know my story, I was destined to do this before I was even born. I haven't had a choice in my own life since I was born. Stay alive, train, lead the war. That's all I ever been given the choice to do. Yet, here we are, two people that are victims of fate that fight against the very reason we are here."

"We can win, John. We can and will win this war. But is it worth it? What will we do after SkyNet is gone? Rebuild? Start all over in small tribes and try to take the world back?"

"That is outside my department, kid. I'm just here to make sure we don't lose the war. After that is done and over with, I'm just going to spend whatever years I have left with my books. That's the plan, anyway."

"Some plan."

"It's better than thinking that the only thing I'm going to do with the rest of my life is fight in this war. I've spent too much time and lost too much to give up now."

"Your confidence is awe-inspiring."

"Sarcasm isn't becoming of you, friend."

"Neither is blissful ignorance in you."

"Blissful ignorance? Oh, I'm sorry, Stephen. Not all of us can wallow in pity and anguish while others have battles to fight." Stephen quickly pins John against the wall by his neck and growls loudly. John doesn't cry out, he only holds up his hands in a submissive manner.

"I could kill you and this would all be over with for me. I could just as easily go back to SkyNet with your head in a sack and I'll be welcomed with open arms."

"Then do it. Go ahead, kill me. But it won't change anything that happened to us and it won't fix you. Face it, Stephen. You're as committed to this as I am. If I die, then everyone dies. Can you live with that on your conscience?"

"I don't care about any of them, I only care about my revenge."

"Then put me down and you'll have it. You'll stay at my side and answer to only me. Just as before, but you'll be out doing what we both know you do without equal."

"What are you telling me?"

"That I made the decision. Are you going to be the one to enforce it?"

Stephen says nothing, he only stares in John's green eyes. He isn't lying. His revenge is finally within his reach. The years of pain, torment, rage, and frustration will all come to a head. He releases John's neck, having not squeezed it hard enough to even impede breathing. John rubs his neck gently and places a hand on Stephen's shoulder.

"It's fine, Stephen. You're stressed right now. I've done the same thing, I've had it done to me a number of times. It's not a big deal. So, like I said, I made the decision. Are you going to be the one to enforce it?"

"For a chance to take down more machines and then SkyNet itself? You bet your sweet ass."

"Good. Because we've been needing a leader with boots on the ground like you. I saw you up there, Stephen. You didn't look like you were fighting, you looked like you were dancing. How long have you been using blades?"

"SkyNet trained us in all fields of weaponry. But I've always had a preference towards knives. It's more honorable. Like the Spartans. You ever read about ancient Greece?"

"Not much more than I had to in school and that _300_ movie that came out when I was a kid. Pretty good flick, I'll say."

"Well, the Spartans lived and breathed in war. They thought that the highest glory they could obtain is a death on the battlefield. They took no prisoners, showed no mercy, and bent their knee for no man other than their king. I could only hope to inspire those under me to fight in such a manner."

"You never know. After all, there is no fate but what we make."

"'No fate but what we make'. You actually believe that garbage?"

"Heh. Honestly, I haven't believed it since my mother first said it to me. I've never been a man of faith, I can't fathom a world were a god would let everything happen that has as part of a plan. But I preach it to inspire hope. Because, without hope, we're doomed to do nothing but remain stagnant."

_Hope is what makes us strong. It is why we are here. It is what we fight with when all else is lost. _

Stephen freezes as the words of his sister echo in his mind, a powerful chill going down his spine. He shudders and shakes his arms out before heading back to his forge.

"Whatever it is you need of me, John, all you ever have to do is ask. I want you to know."

"Thank you, Stephen. I mean that. It's hard to find someone that has as much loyalty as you've already shown without bordering on fanaticism. Tomorrow, you start your duties as the weapons maintainer and craftsman of the base. You're not going to be in the armory, that's too dull for someone like you. But I'm putting you in charge to make sure all of the weapons are in optimal condition. Additionally, I want you to keep up with what you do here. Make ammunition, modifications, and the blades you used. Those are already in high demand since word of your little dance up top got around."

"Anything you say, John." He waves to his General over his shoulder before he places the scraps from up top into the glowing smelter. John heads to the door and steps out, stopping in the doorway.

"Also, I've been thinking about what you said. You are like Hephaestus. But Tin Man doesn't suit you and Hephaestus doesn't quite cut it. I know of a better name that I'm confident you'll live up to."

"What's that?"

"Ares. God of war."


	15. Last Will and Testament

_**A**__**uthor's Notes: I apologize for such a long time since my last update. My muse has been on vacation, it seems. I have begun my rewrite of all chapters to date. To answer the question posed previously, I will not delete this story as a number of people have followed it. I will simply time the upload of my redrafts with little one-shots or chapters that give a little more background without moving the plot forward. I will try not to make a habit of those. **_

_**I got the idea for this chapter on my way home from work tonight (muse decided to say hi at 0145, how sweet). There is a reference to popular culture in this, very obvious and subtle at the same time. Trying to keep up with my challenge to you wonderful readers. In any case, here you go. A fresh chapter. The rewrite's to Chapters 1-3 should be posted this week, but don't quote me on that.**_

* * *

Cassandra hums softly to herself as she rises to her feet from atop of her small bed. She walks over to the mirror above her sink and stares back into her own eyes. She smiles slightly for a moment and then it fades to a more somber expression.

"Hello, stranger. I don't know who you are and I am sure that you have no idea who I am. At least, not at this current moment. It happens, I suppose. SkyNet saw that we I-950s were separated by gender our entire lives until we needed to execute our final training mission. I have been fortunate to not reach this point yet, I couldn't do it. Our purpose...I never liked it. I followed my orders like a good soldier for as long as I could, but I know this is one thing I couldn't do.

SkyNet saw that recently as well. I, along with nearly every one of my brethren, agreed that we are not supposed to fight the Resistance. We are human just like they are, just a little different. We're special, I guess. Regardless of whether or not that is true, it brings us to where I am now. We all approached SkyNet with our own suggestion about how we could go on in the future: a simple ceasefire between the two sides so that a type of peace could be achieved. Humans and machines operating in a symbiotic relationship seems most logical and it would most definitely ease all of our guilty consciences.

As you already know, SkyNet did not appreciate this offer. It ordered the Terminators to escort us back to our quarters' and then severed our links with it. With that link severed, we are no longer able to come and go within the facility as we desire. It would seem that we are all security threats due to our 'treasonous behavior'. I can't say I disagree. The contingency was to attack SkyNet from within if the ceasefire was declined. We didn't anticipate this.

So, because of our imprisonment, I am recording this into my Neural Net Processor. My last will and testament, I believe is the term. I know that I will die soon. I accept that. I know that the I-950s that didn't side with us will be my murderer. Again, I accept that. I will gladly die if it means I never have to take a human life. All life is precious, be it man, animal, or machine. I just don't want to hurt anyone.

To you, stranger, I just have so much to say. I harbor no ill will towards you. If you are watching this, you are likely the one who killed me. You are only doing what you are ordered to do. If you didn't side with us, I am confident you had no idea that this was even happening. If you did know, I know you would have been on our side. Like I said, I do not hate you. I forgive you for what you are about to do. I don't even know you, but I want you to know that I love you. I love everyone. I believe that everyone is worthy of love.

Love, to me, one of the strongest powers in the world. The only thing, to me, that is stronger is hope. Hope that we can make it through the darkness, hope that we can end our own suffering, and hope that we will never ever be forced to do anything against our wills. Hope is why we are here, stranger. It is what makes us strong. It's what we fight with when all else is lost. Have hope, stranger. I don't ever want you to think that you did the wrong thing here today. But my love and forgiveness comes with a price.

I have a brother. I don't know his name or even what he looks like, even though I hear he is quite the cutie pie. SkyNet tells me that he is the most skilled out of all of us, even showing the ability to destroy Terminators in hand to hand combat. I worry about him. I haven't heard any news about him in ages. I would like for you to find out who he is and watch over him. Make sure he lives to see a brighter world without war. If I had my say, he wouldn't ever have to pick up a rifle and march into battle. He is good at it, but not everyone should do what they are good at.

If you could do that for me, then I would be eternally grateful. I only want the best for my baby brother. He's my twin, you know. I'm just a little bit older. I would love to just give him a huge hug and hold him so he knows that I love him as well. SkyNet is such a cold and distant mother. Not like ours, I think. I think our mother would have doted on us and spoiled us rotten. But that is just me. I probably would have spoiled my brother myself if..."

Cassandra's vision blurs with the welling tears and her sniffling is heard. The pain growing in her voice is just so powerful, it is deeply saddening. She cries softly to herself with whimpers inserting themselves between her sobs. She wipes her eyes and then takes a deep breath before staring back into her own eyes again. She forces herself to smile and nods at her reflection. She walks away from her mirror and rests herself on the edger of her bed. She looks down and watches her legs swing freely, almost childishly.

"Enough of that. I don't think there is anything else I can truly say without rambling. Please, take care of my brother. I don't know what I would do if I ever found out if he got hurt. Goodbye, my gentle stranger. I love you. Have a good life."

Cassandra's eyes dart to the door of the room as it opens and, standing before her, is a giant of a man with dark hair that teases his eyes and a strong clean-shaven jaw. He looks at her for a moment, taking her all in, then smiles nervously at her.

"H-hey..." She says before standing and going back to the sink.

* * *

_** August 26**__**th**__**, 2007. 0034 hours.**_

Stephen holds his glass delicately in his hands before taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage inside. He looks up at the stars above him and closes his eyes as he lays down completely on the roof of the safehouse. He is beside himself, Cassandra knew that he was going there to kill her. She already forgave him and admitted her love for him, despite his role as her executioner. His sister is truly a better person than he could ever be.

"Do you know why I wanted you to see that, Stephen?" Her soft voices says from his left. He nods and puts the remainder of his drink in his mouth before tossing the glass into the street behind him where it breaks loudly. He swallows and sighs.

"You don't want me to be guilty anymore. You want me to open up to Sarah completely."

"That's right, baby brother."

"I would be lying if I said this didn't hurt me, but it did more good than bad. I can't promise you anything, sis. But I will most certainly try."

"That's all I ask of you. I'm going to go. Try to get some sleep."

"Good night, sister."

Stephen sits up and looks around the small overgrown backyard and begins to contemplate what he could do to take a step in the right direction. Nothing comes straight to mind, but all of that is dashed away when he feels a presence behind him. He almost began to ignore it once a smell didn't accompany, but he looks over his shoulder for good measure. It is a mirror image of himself, only wearing a jet black suit and clutching a cane that looks to be made out of bone.

"You managed to sneak up on me. I must be a little too drunk."

"Surprising you is a feat I will remain very proud of." His double says as it comes to his right and sits beside him.

"Been a long time, Stephen."

"It sure has, Thanatos. What do you want?"


	16. Confrontation

Consider this a way of apologising for my absence. The rewrite will work like this: The edited chapters will be uploaded as new chapters, to the end of the chapter list. As I complete more, I will upload them until the story is up to date. I'll get it done as soon as possible. Enjoy, my children.

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_**April 21st, 2011. ? hours.**_

The feel of the bullets are still fresh in his flesh. The taste of blood still stings his tongue. The smell of death fills his nostrils. With his senses still intact, he knows that he was wrong: there is something after the end of your life. Presently, he isn't sure of what it is. But with these sensations, he is sure that it isn't a reward. To finish the stimulation, he opens his hazel eyes to take in his full surroundings. But only darkness fills his vision. He can see himself perfectly, but there is nothing around to be seen. He looks around, still seeing nothing else.

His olive drab cargo pants, a black t-shirt, black combat boots, a beige trench-coat that reaches down to his calves, and the dark red bandanna wrapped around his head all greet his eyes once he looks himself over. He rubs his chin, the thick beard assaulting his digits, the gesture failing to soothe him. He pockets his hands and starts walking off into the distance in an effort to relax himself. Again, the gesture fails to accomplish anything in the positive. His footsteps echo off of a nonexistent floor and he closes his eyes. Against his best efforts, his mind retreats to just moments before his eyes opened.

_**"You don't have to do this, Stephen!" **_A young man's voice screams in his head. _**"You don't want to do this!"**_

_** "Stephen, please stop! There's another way!" **_The voice of an adult woman pleads with him, sobbing as she begs.

_**"We can beat this, Stephen, you're more than capable! Don't give in!" **_A teenage girl's high pitched scream pierces his ears and sends chills back down his spine.

Stephen hears other sets of footsteps begin to echo around him. He thinks nothing of it, he isn't surprised that this would happen. Death, it seems, allows someone to keep those who have been around them their entire life. Like it or not. He opens his eyes and stares straight ahead as he travels through the void.

"I am not in the mood for anything you four have to say right now." He says to those following him with malice in his voice.

He looks over his shoulder and immediately catches the sight of a small adolescent girl with pale skin, glowing green eyes, and rich blonde hair tied in pig tails on either side of her head wearing a white sundress walking side by side with a middle-aged man with glowing purple eyes, salt-and-pepper hair, and a blue pinstriped suit. On his other side, he sees a bald black man dressed in jungle camouflage that towers over him with glowing blue eyes walking with a short Asian man with glowing red eyes, black hair covering his face, and dressed in a schoolboy's uniform.

"Are you dead, Stephen?" The little girl, a voice lacking all childhood joy, softly says to him.

"There is a limit to things that even I can take and walk away from, Lillith." Stephen replies.

"Viktor and Lucius thought so. We figured the same thing that you always did, that there was nothing after death. This is tragically anticlimactic."

"And what did you think, Jacob?" Stephen says to the Asian man to his left. He merely shrugs and coughs into his hand.

"I knew we wouldn't go to Heaven, I expected that we would burn in Hell."

Stephen laughs dryly and reaches into a pocket on his thigh, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lights one and takes a deep drag from the mentholated stick of tobacco. At least he still has that in death. He pats his pockets and gives a disappointed sigh when discovering his flask is absent. Maybe that is for the best.

"If it's the same to you guys, I think I would prefer to be alone."

Viktor, Lucius, and Jacob give different signs of agreement before they simply stop walking. Lillith, on the other hand, speeds up until she is directly at Stephen's side. He looks at her and hands her the already lit cigarette, which she gladly takes. He lights another one and the two walk as they smoke. They walk for what feels like an hour, their cigarettes never extinguishing. Fitting.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lillith asks with a small degree of compassion in her voice.

"You couldn't tell what was going on, huh?"

"Oddly enough, no. The others have had issues with spectating on and off for years , but I could see everything. I haven't told them. I figured that is something you would prefer to keep close to the chest."

"You could be a good kid from time to time, Lillith. When you're not being a sadistic bitch."

"Little bit of the pot calling the kettle black, no?"

"Ehh...that's a good point."

"Stephen...I think you should talk to us." Stephen looks at her incredulously and stops in his tracks.

"What, about everything that has been going on? I don't think you four even somewhat qualify as therapists."

"No, but no one knows you as well as we do. If anyone else can help with what's going on in your head, it is any one of us."

Stephen remains silent for a moment before he nods. He turns to walk back towards the others, but they appear to materialize just as he moves. He jumps slightly and releases a calming breath. He takes a drag from his cigarette before he flicks away.

"Alright, guys. I got something I want to tell you about."

"What is it, _comrade_?" Viktor says inquisitively.

"You all know what my mission is, the one I was born and trained to do: terminate General John Connor and all members of the Resistance. I was even given a mission set should I go back through time. That all changed as you know. After I met up with John and the others, everything seemed to be going to well for a while. Curve balls left and right, but well, overall. It looked positive for a bit."

"Then why do you seem so glum, Stephen?" Jacob asks lowly. Stephen pauses and lowers his gaze to the ground. Feeling Lillith's tiny hand on the small of his back, he gathers the strength to finish his statement.

"Because I killed them. All four of them."

The three men simply stare at them, giving no visible reaction to this stunning declaration. If anything, they seem...disappointed. Stephen scoffs and throws his hands down before he turns and walks away again. It is exactly as expected, they don't care. Lillith's tiny feet pat against an invisible surface behind Stephen in her effort to catch up to him.

"Stephen, wait!"

"No, fuck all of you! I barely ask anything from any of you in all of the years you've pestered my ass and the one time that I need some support, you stare at my like I just shit on the ground!"

"Are you really shocked they don't care? I only suggested it because I thought it would be cathartic for you!"

"_Cathartic_? You think talking to the assholes that have made my life a living hell would give me catharsis_?! _I can't believe I even entertained it!"

"Stephen..."

He holds his hand to cut her off, he isn't interested in what she has to say. Even less so than usual. He takes off into a sprint, leaving the girl alone. He runs and runs and runs, seemingly forever. How much time has passed? How many miles did he just run? It could have been hours. Sweat soaks his bandanna, his boots feel as heavy as lead blocks, and his chest burns furiously with exertion. Deciding against any more, the weary man allows his body to fail and he falls to the ground. His heart races as he struggles to catch his breath again until the pants turn into pained sobs.

The defeated warrior, the wounded combatant, the failed soldier; he cries every ounce of sorry he's ever felt in his life in this one moment. Never more in his entire consciousness has he ever desired for it all to end that he does now. Failure...the cold sting in his heart is more painful than any blade that has ever pierced his skin. This failure...is above all others. He clutches his head and curls into a fetal position as the tears pour from his eyes. He continues to cry until a warm touch graces his shoulder. He stops instantly, looking at the source of his touch. His eyes widen as far as they will go, a mixture of fear and joy pouring out of it.

"Hey, baby brother," The soft and melodic voice touches his ears, giving him the soothing feeling he's been waiting for.

"Cass...Cassandra..?"

The tall, slender blonde woman looks down at him and smiles widely. Her perfectly straight pearly gteeth, the curled mane of hair that drapes over her exposed shoulders, and her sapphire gems that make up her eyes warms his cold heart. He slowly sits up and looks over her again. Just like Lillith, she is bare foot with a white sundress. But this accentuates her succulent curves and would have almost any man staring.

"I'm right here, cutie pie. I'm not going anywhere, I'm here just for you."

"But...how?"

"Just because we're both dead doesn't mean we can't see each other. The least I can do is help you when you need someone most."

"The only difference is you're dead because of me. The likewise isn't even slightly accurate."

"Be that as it may, I'm not angry about it. We all die eventually, love. Some of us just die later than others."

"Like John...Cameron...and Sarah.."

"You loved her, didn't you?"

Stephen looks away from his sister, closing his eyes as pain fills his features. Gently, Cassandra grabs his chin and turns his head back towards her. Her concerned eyes plead for him to talk to her, but he shows no sign of relenting. Feeling horribly saddened for her brother, Cassandra wraps her nimble arms around Stephen's giant frame. She pulls him into a tight embrace and pets his head softly.

"What happened, Stephen?"

"You don't know?"

"I'm dead, remember? Start at the beginning. Tell me everything."

"It's a long story, sis."

"Don't worry about it, baby brother. I've got all the time in the world."


	17. Curiouser and Curiouser

_** November 14th, 2007. 1526 hours.**_

The explosion rips the air and jolts Stephen awake from his resting position on a bench. He jerks awake, yells a string of profanity, and draws his M1911 from his waistband. Before he fires off a shot, he gains his bearings and leaps to his feet. His eyes dart around for a source of the disturbance, but fails to find anything. Deciding to not waste any time, he turns around and sprints off down the road.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! I should NOT have fallen asleep!"

* * *

Cameron's HUD flickers as she slowly starts to stir in the remnants of the jeep. Her memory replays her walking to the jeep, opening the door, reliving the 'feeling' that she's being watched. Unable to find anything observing her, Cameron climbs into the vehicle and cranks the ignition. Then, the jeep explodes. Her head jerks heavily, then she turns her head to the house once a yell comes from it.

_**ANALYZING DAMAGE...  
ANALYSIS COMPLETE.  
EXTENSIVE DAMAGE.  
LOWER EXTREMITIES DAMAGE.  
ORGANIC SHEATH DAMAGE.  
AWAITING FEEDBACK FROM REMAINING SYSTEMS...**_

Cameron cannot afford to wait for the full damage report, there is something much more important for her to focus on at the moment. Slowly bending forward, she musters her cybernetic strength and pushes the engine block from her lap and back into the front of the burnt jeep. She brushes remaining debris from her lap aside and effortlessly pushes the loosely hanging door off of the jeep. She begins to limp towards the house, but she is interrupted by a notification in her HUD that she is unable to ignore.

_**CHIP INTEGRITY COMPROMISED.  
FOREIGN OBJECT DETECTED IN CRANIUM.**_

Cameron jerks her head to the side and reaches up to the back of her head, then removes a jagged seven-inch long scrap of metal from her skull. She looks it over for a moment and discards it. Then, out of the blue, a pair of yells come from the second floor of the house. She jerks her head towards it, a voice print analysis quickly informing her that the yells come from John and Sarah. As she raggedly begins to limp up the stairs with only one thought on her cybernetic mind.

_ "John..."_

About ten minutes later, Stephen comes sprinting down the street and slows to a stop once he sees the smoke rising from a burnt jeep and the scattered remains of the house. He looks it over, cursing himself again. He looks over the house and, instantly, he could tell the water heater exploded. He sniffs the air as he walks closer to the remains of the home. The air stinks of burnt pork, which means one of two things: either someone is cooking a ton of roast or, the more likely scenario, there were bodies caught in the still burning house. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his nose. He can decipher three different distinct 'flavors' of the smell of seared meat. Three dead bodies. Not a trace of heated coltan, so Cameron is still up and moving. He begins to worry if the Connors are caught inside, but his thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of his cellphone. He quickly brings it to his ear and begins to speak.

"Chaos."

"Lightning. Fox, we have a visual on Cronus and Gaia."

"Acknowledged. Send me the last known location, images, along with an estimated travel plan; I need to get ahead of them. Do we have eyes on Athena?"

"Roger. It looks like she's on their trail. She has certainly seen better days."

"What do you mean?"

"According to the video feeds I hacked into, she's limping and the skin on her face is barely hanging on. Is this really her?"

"Yeah, Otacon. I need that information sooner instead of later."

He hangs up the phone and, within a few moments, his cellphone vibrates. He recognizes the location, it's a Hispanic church. John and Sarah are wounded, John's bleeding and obviously favoring his left leg. Sarah, on the other hand, has blood dripping down her face but she's otherwise fine from his view. Looking at the next message, Cameron is seen walking inside of a convenience store. The picture, taken at her left side, shows the flesh hanging loosely on her face.

_"Curiouser and curiouser...the explosion I heard must've jumbled her programming. Probably damaged her chip." _ Stephen thinks to himself.

Before he can ask himself why Cameron would be chasing the Connors, a piece of jagged metal catches his attention. He squats and gazes at the bloody piece of steel, noting the scrape marks along its side. His gut tells him Cameron pulled it out of her body and, if she's chasing her charges, she pulled it from her head. Her chip is damaged.

_"Great. This isn't going to be easy."  
_

* * *

Cameron follows the blood trail to the door of _M. Jesus El Salvador Del Mundo, _walking in without hesitation. As she enters, the numerous paintings and statues of a religious nature catch her attention. She tilts her head and, despite her detailed files on human psychology and the theory of belief, she has been unable to deduce the logic within religious faith. Humans are such fragile creatures in every sense of the word, faith assisting in proving such. She makes a note of this for further examination, turning as footsteps approach her from behind.

"Yes? May I help you?" A lightly accented voice speaks to her, the voice coming from the priest.

"I'm looking for my family," She replies in monotone. A shiver trails up his spine from the coldness in her words and being able to fully take in her appearance.

"Your family?"

"My mother and my brother. We were in an accident. I think they're hurt."

"There is no one here, my child." He slowly starts to walk towards her as he speaks.

"I need to find them. It's life or death." The Father shakes his head and stares at Cameron.

"Like I said, there is no one here." Cameron rights her head and starts to walk towards him, hearing a gasp from the man.

"I'm going to look around. It's life or death." Cameron turns around and looks at the crucified statue of Jesus, considering it as a viable option of executing her target.

* * *

Stephen sprints as fast as his legs will carry him as he whips through the pedestrians on the sidewalk, trying his best to catch up to Cameron and the Connors. He can't steal a vehicle. He can't wait for one of his own vehicles to arrive. Time is of the essence. He has no choice but to run. He pulls out his cell, presses a few buttons, and puts it to his ear as he runs.

"Thunder." The voice on the other end of the phone grunts.

"Whirlwind. Listen, I need a live feed of the city's surveillance systems. Use the coordinates from the last known location of Cronus and Gaia as an indicator, I need to know where they are now."

"Roger, I've been keeping an eye on them. Athena is on their trail, I lost sight of them as they went into the tunnel system."

"How far behind am I? I just passed the church."

"You're approximately seven hundred meters from when I last saw them. Might want to pick up the pace, Fox."

"Acknowledged. Fox, out."

Stephen curses and pockets his phone before he starts running just south of 60 miles an hour. Shockingly fast, but not impossible for a human. He rounds a corner, then leaps clear over a gate impeding his path to enter the tunnels. He sticks the landing, rolls, then goes back into running without missing a beat. As he runs, he looks down and notices tire marks on the ground. He's confident he's heading the right way. How many people really drive through the LA tunnels?

He hears the unmistakable sound of a vehicle wrecking and rolling onto its side. He was right, he's going the right way. Though, that isn't what motivates him to run faster. It's the unmistakable sound of a woman screaming in agony. He's almost there, he can make it. He has to.

* * *

John freezes as he sees Cameron standing idly in the warehouse with a wrench in her hand. The two stare at each other and John can hear his heart pounding in his ears. For a moment, he thinks Cameron is back to the way she was. She's not going to try and kill him. All of his hopes for that is dashed away when she rears her arm back with the wrench and hurls it at him. His eyes widen as the large pipe wrench sails near him, then it changes direction entirely. The wrench is pinned against the wall, a knife pierced through the handle. John looks at it incredulously and then back to Cameron, only to see her sail through the air. John nearly missed it, but he caught a stranger hovering in the air and kicking Cameron directly in the face.

John remains fixed in the truck, a mixture of fear and shock removing all ability to move his body. Cameron quickly rises to her feet and tilts her head as she looks at the 6'4" muscle bound behemoth. Stephen stares at her with a blank expression on his face, tilting his head mechanically as she begins her visual scan.

_**IDENTIFYING SUBJECT...**_

_**ANALYSIS INCONCLUSIVE.**_

_**UNIDENTIFIED MODEL OF TERMINATOR.**_

_**DETECTING MULTIPLE FUNCTIONING ORGAN SYSTEMS.**_

_**COURSE OF ACTION: DETERMINING...**_

_**COURSE OF ACTION: DISABLE THREAT AND TERMINATE MISSION PRIMARY.**_

"John Connor?" Stephen calls out, turning his head to the boy remaining fixed in the truck. John wants to call out, to answer this strangers question. Words fail the teenager, he nods his head in return. Stephen turns his head back to Cameron, who is beginning to limp towards her aggressor.

"Kill or disable?" He yells to the boy. John still can't form a response, all he can do is nod.

"KILL OR DISABLE!?"

"D-d-d-disable!" John manages to yell out.

_"This just got a lot more complicated." _Stephen thinks with an internal groan.

Cameron is the first to take an aggressive action. Her limping brings her closer to Stephen and he responds in kind. She quickly latches onto his shoulders, attempting to toss him aside. He grabs onto her wrists and controls how her attempted throw effects him, hardly lifting him off of the ground. Cameron swings her fist at his face and connects, only turning his face slightly to the side. Stephen turns his head against the force of her powerful arm, forcing his eyes to flash their mechanical blue LED lights. Without a moment's hesitation, Stephen slams her arms down off of him. He grabs her right wrist and places a hand on her right shoulder. While moving his hands in a blur, he snakes a foot behind her right leg and the move knocks Cameron off of her feet and to the floor.

_**Analyzing Combat Situation...**_

_**Analysis Complete.**_

_**Hostile Identified as TOK-715, codename: Cameron. **_

_**Hostile Is Severely Damaged. **_

_**Course of Action: **Command Accepted** Disable. Restrain Without Damaging Hostile. **_

_**Probability of Success: 100%.**_

Upon forcing Cameron to the ground, Stephen starts wracking his mind for the layout of the TOK-715 endoskeleton; a modified T-888. He disregards the idea of dislocating her limbs for fear of permanently damaging her. He is broken from his reverie as Cameron throws a hook to Stephen's face, catching him off guard. He quickly recovers and responds to her blow by repeatedly striking Cameron in the face. One quick blow, and the staples from the side of her face are forced out. Cameron's HUD flickers from the massive blow, her body naturally going limp.

Stephen rolls Cameron onto her stomach and forces her arms behind her, attempting to lock them in place. She manages to get one arm free for a moment and throws an elbow that connects to his thigh. The blow knocks the M1911 out of the holster, the pistol sliding across the floor...stopping at Sarah's feet. The elder Connor keeps a hand on her bleeding gut as she bends down and takes the pistol in her hand. She aims it at Stephen as she advances towards him and watches as he subdues the thrashing cyborg. Trying to prevent her from getting to her feet, she puts the pistol in the back of her pants and wraps her limbs around Cameron's legs. John looks at his mother, then to the two on the ground with his eyes wide.

"Don't watch like there's a dick growing on my forehead, get your ass over here, boy! There's another knife on my hip, pull out her chip!"

John shakes his head, snapping to. He quickly limps over to the trio and pulls the knife from Stephen's leg, pressing it against Cameron's head. He knows what he has to do, he just never thought for a moment that this would ever become something that would need to be done. He takes a deep breath and starts to cut into her skin.

"John...John, you can't do this. You don't know what you're about to do," The cyborg woman begs without changing the tone in her voice.

"Yes, I do! You're gonna _kill_ me!"

"No! John, you can't do this. You're not doing the right thing, this is not the right thing, John. Things are good now, things are fine. I ran a test. Things are good now." Emotion slowly grows in her voice as she begs John, hoping he would stop. It works, John stops moving once she finishes.

"John..." Stephen trails with an aggravated tone in his voice.

_"Of course, she ran a test. Cameron is a Terminator, they always keep track of their functions. She wouldn't lie to me about this, I know it!" _John thinks to himself, feeling hope swell in his chest.

"I'm fixed now. You can trust me now, things are good now."

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?" Stephen and Sarah scream in unison, snapping John out of his thoughts.

"They don't know! They don't! I'm good now! I'm good now, I ran a test! Everything's perfect, I'm perfect!"

John can feel the desperation growing in her voice and what seems to be genuine fear and sadness on her face. This forces him to believe her words and he loosens the grip on the knife just as he cut a quarter of the way to reveal her chip port. Why wouldn't he believer her? She's his only friend, his protector, maybe...no. That can't happen. But still, he believes her.

"JOHN!" Sarah and Stephen yell out loudly, again bringing from back from his reverie.

"I'm sorry for what I did! I'm sorry! It wasn't me, you have to understand it wasn't me!"

Cameron turns her head slightly to look over at John, as tears start welling up in her eyes. Her body relaxes, she isn't fighting anymore. She accepts that there is nothing she can do. Stephen and Sarah notice this, but they don't care. They don't trust the change in attitude. They look at John, seeing he is fighting with what he wants to do and what needs to be done. They can't tell which side is winning.

_"She's right..this isn't the right thing...No! It is the right thing! We can't let her loose!"_

John shakes the thought away. He finishes cutting and pries off the port covering with the knife. The chip is now revealed to the world. As the pop indicating the removal of the covering is heard, Cameron starts fighting against Stephen and Sarah again. She nearly gets one leg loose from Sarah, but Stephen lowers digs a knee in Cameron's lower back to assist her keeping the cyborg still.

"That wasn't me! You can't let this happen, John, you can't! Please! _Listen_ to me! Listen to me, I don't wanna go! Please, John, please! John, listen to me, I don't wanna go!"

"TAKE OUT THE GODDAMN CHIP, CONNOR!" Stephen bellows at him, causing the boy to jump.

"Please, John? Please? I'm good now!"

Cameron seems to be on the verge of an emotional breakdown as John looks at her blankly, his mind befuddled with his own explanations of what is transpiring before him. Things that destroy everything he was raised to believe about machines, everything his mother taught him.

"Listen to me! I don't wanna go! I'm sorry! That wasn't me!"

Just like Niagara Falls, tears start pouring from her eyes and grab tightly on his heart. The knife, formerly as light as a feather, now feels like it's made purely from lead. His arm goes limp as he stares at Cameron, watching as the tears just keep flowing out of her.

"I'm fixed, now! I ran a test! Everything's perfect, you can trust me!"

"_JOHN CONNOR!"_ Sarah roars, kicking her son hard enough to get his attention. He looks at his mother, then to Stephen, then back to Cameron. He shakes his head and pulls a pair of pliers from his pocket and moves to her chip.

"I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU, PLEASE! I LOVE YOU, JOHN, AND YOU LOVE ME!"

She screams this loudly as soon as the pliers touch her chip. Had he not already dropped the knife, he may have sliced off a finger by how badly he jumped. His heart races, he starts to hyperventilate, and his entire body shakes. He can't even think right now, his mind is a complete fog.

_"She...loves me...can she? Can she love me?"_

Sarah kicks her son once more, forcing him back to the situation at hand. Summoning up what little intestinal fortitude he has left, John pulls her chip out and observes Cameron going limp. Panting, Sarah allows herself to roll to the side and lays on her back. Stephen lets out a small sigh and removes a pack of cigarettes from his thigh pocket, pleased to learn they weren't crushed in the scuffle. He lights the cigarette and retrieves the blade. He takes a long pull, before leaning down and picking up Cameron. He pats the kneeling John on the shoulder, giving him a nod once John looks at him. He turns his head to Sarah, who has now climbed to her feet and walks to him. She clutches her side and tosses her hair out of her fair, staring him in the eyes.

"Who are you?" Stephen scoffs and takes the cigarette from his mouth, exhaling slowly.

"Stephen. Second-in-command of the Resistance. We'll talk about the rest later, let's move."

* * *

Stephen stands in the corner of a derelict warehouse, remaining in the shadows against a support column as he observes everyone else. Charley has finished patching up the wounds of the day and stands speaking to Derek. John, on the other hand, brushes over Cameron's chip as if it were made of glass, removing every speck of dust and dirt he can see. His eyes slowly turn to Sarah, who's watching John intently. His eyes lock on her, examining every piece of her. She's rather fit and healthy for a woman her age. Especially so for a woman with her lifestyle. He pushes the acknowledgment aside and looks back to John, sighing as he looks at the kid before him.

_"Welcome to the future, kid."_

Stephen inhales deeply and pushes the smoke out through his nose as Sarah walks over to him. He looks at her and pays a courteous nod. Sarah leans against the opposite end of the support column, looking at his cigarette. Stephen notices this and extends the cigarette to her. She eyes it for a moment, then takes it from his hand. She takes it and pulls from it, coughing for a moment. Menthol, great. Stephen lights another cigarette and sighs as he exhales the smoke.

"Second-in-command, huh?"

"Ever since 2028."

"You're not human. But-."

"I'll explain later. I have a house on the edge of town. It'll be perfect to use a base of operations from now on. If you'll go, that is."

"Why should we trust you?"

"Because I want the same thing you do."

"Which is?"

"Stop Judgment Day."

"Good enough for me. We're going to have to take care of her, first."

"That's up to John. One instruction I was given is that every decision that is made in regards to the mission is on John's shoulders. A lot of weight to put on him, but he needs to be prepared in case we fail."

"You can't honestly say that we need to ask if he wants to burn her."

"He's supposed to lead humanity. He needs to be ready to make hard decisions."

Sarah gives a defeated sigh and nods, accepting Stephen knows what he's talking about. Still, it doesn't make the situation any easier.

"What's your mission?"

"Stop Judgment Day, keep you four alive. I'm authorized to do anything and everything I need to do in order to make it happen as well."

"Things must have went very well or very badly if John sent you back through time."

"It did, it went very well. We won the war."

Sarah stops in mid drag and looks at him with disbelief. She never thought she would ever hear those wars, Cameron and Derek painted such a bleak picture of the future. Lack of supplies, lack of manpower, everything was going wrong. But here, a man in command of the Resistance, gives a tale of victory.

"So, why were you sent back?"

"Because John didn't trust anyone else as much as he trusted me."

"Would Derek verify what you say?"

"Derek never met me. At least, not that he can remember."

"Convenient." Stephen shrugs at her and looks out of a window to see two sets of headlights. He takes one final puff of his cigarette before he crushes it under his boot.

"That's our ride." Stephen retrieves Cameron from the gurney and slings her over his shoulder, waves to Charley, then heads outside. Sarah watches him and then walks to Derek's side, making eye contact with each other. Sarah takes one last drag and crushes it under her foot, exhaling it as she pockets her hands.

"Can we trust him?" He asks softly. Sarah shrugs and shakes her head.

"I don't know, but he could have let John and I die. That is worth at least a little consideration."

"Do you think we can take him if we need to?"

"He took down Cameron without an issue. I have no idea, Reese." Derek nods and watches John walk aside. He flexes his jaw and walks with Sarah outside.

The drive takes about an hour, but the sight they come to is well worth the wait. Stephen has a conversation with the driver, whose face is concealed by a hood, in another language. Russian, to be exact. After passing through a ten foot tall security gate connected to a concrete wall that stretches as far as they could see, the trio exits their truck and watches Stephen carry Cameron around the side of a massive three-story house connected to a wooded area is perfectly secluded and quite pleasing to the eye. Constructed entirely out of wood and brick, the house has a elegant aesthetic to it, built truly in the style of the early 1900's. Stephen walks into a large shed and drops Cameron in the center of a coffin size sandpit surrounded by concrete blocks.

John, Sarah, and Derek stand around Cameron with Stephen standing at her head. Stephen lights another cigarette and leans against the wall while everyone looks to each other, having a completely silent conversation. Stephen, not needing to be asked, points a tin can next to Cameron. Sarah grabs it and starts pouring the thermite over Cameron's deactivated body. Once she's covered in a thin sheet of the powder, she takes a step back and looks to John. He looks at Cameron's chip contemplatively for a moment, the pain in his chest showing on his face. Take a deep breath, he sticks it between Cameron's hands and stands up.

"Flare." He demands and extends his hand to Derek. His uncle obliges and places the orange tube in the teenagers hand. Stephen watches this happen, then squints as he sees something glimmer in John's eyes. Not wanting to betray anything, he smirks internally. John tosses the apologizes, tosses the flare aside, and then quickly throws Cameron's chip into her head. He gives her a quick twist and stands up.

"JOHN!" Derek yells out. He goes to rush around the sandpit, but stops in his tracks once John draws a pistol and points it directly at his chest. Derek slowly steps forward, but he is pushed against a wall by Sarah.

"Stop! John, she'll kill you!"

"Only one way to find out!" John trains his weapon between his uncle and his mother before looking over to Stephen. Stephen shakes his head, not going to intervene in the least. You could argue he's apathetic, but he is leaving it completely in John's hands.

"You're gonna let this happen!?" Sarah yells out to Stephen with her voice becoming nearly a shriek. Stephen shrugs and takes a drag from his cigarette, raising both of his eyebrows.

"John's made his decision."

Sarah is about to turn her yells towards Stephen, but she stops when Cameron's body begins to stir. Derek and Sarah take a step back, putting their hands on their pistols. Cameron's eyes flutter open and she sits up. She turns to John and tilts her head once their eyes make contact when no answers are afforded. Her eyes go towards the pistol then back up to John's eyes.

"Are you here to kill me, John?" John takes a step towards her without adjusting his aim in the least. He can't make a mistake here. The future is on the line.

"Are you here to kill _me_?" He spits back at her while raising his pistol to her head. Cameron glances at the pistol and then back to John before shaking her head.

"No."

"Promise?"

John grabs the barrel of the pistol in his off hand and extends it to her. Cameron stands up in the sandpit and looks at the pistol with another curious tilt of her head. She takes the weapon in her hand and immediately raises it to John's chest. Application of a few pounds of pressure and the entire future is lost, humanity is doomed. Stephen's hand slowly drifts to one of the throwing knives attached to his thigh, confident that he could react quick enough if it came to that.

_**IDENTIFYING SUBJECT...**_

_**SUBJECT IDENTIFIED.**_

_**JOHN CONNOR. **_

_**COURSE OF ACTION: TERMINATE.**_

_**PROCESSING TERMINATION OVERRIDE...**_

_**OVERRIDE ACCEPTED.**_

_**COURSE OF ACTION: CONTINUE WITH PRIMARY MISSION, PROTECT JOHN CONNOR.**_

"Promise."

Cameron extends the pistol back to the teenager without breaking eye contact with him. Sarah and Derek give a relieved sigh and walk out of the shed first, followed by the teenagers. Stephen holds up his hand and motions for John to give him the pistol. The youth obliges and walks out after Cameron. Stephen looks at it, feeling something off about the weight. It's subtle, damn near unnoticeable. He knows this from his experience with all forms of weaponry. He drops the magazine and looks at it for a moment, then laughs softly to himself. He fires off the round chambered in the pistol towards the wall. Just as he thought, nothing comes from it.

"Blanks. Heh. Clever kid."

* * *

"So, if the rounds were really blanks, wouldn't Cameron be able to tell? TOK-715 was the most advanced model before the hybrid project was reinstated, unless a lot changed before I died." Cassandra says to him softly as she lays next to him on the ground of the void.

"It's possible. The weight difference is almost zero, but I've had my hands on almost every form of weaponry there is. Even I almost couldn't tell. But the fact remains that, regardless if she knew or not, she didn't try to kill John. She could have. In fact, even if she found out they were blanks, she could have beaten him to death. Tried to, anyway."

"But she didn't."

"She didn't."

"I can tell you're really fond of her. You're really fond of her, John, and Sarah; aren't you?"

"I never had a family. Not that I knew of, anyway. No offense."

"None taken. I didn't know you were my brother until after I was already dead. Which sounds depressing in multiple different ways."

"I don't know. What happened after that still puzzles me."

"What was that?"

"I told them all about you."

"You mean..."

"I kind of had to."

"And how did that turn out?"

"A lot better than expected. You were the first person I ever killed."

"There's more to that, baby brother."

"Don't remind me."


	18. History Lesson

_**November 14**__**th**__**, 2007. 2149 hours.**_

Stephen is already displaying himself a man of many facets. Upon entering the house, the furnishing is rather indicative of a person without refined tastes. The walls are adorned with massive bookshelves filled to the absolute brim with novels, but there are no plants, no paintings, no knick-knacks, or anything else of the like. His living room contains basic furnishings; a large black couch and a pair of love seats on opposite sides of a glass coffee table arranged in front of a 70" television. John notices that his entertainment devices are truly the only things he's indulged in, gaming systems along with a rather large array of assorted video games and Blu-Ray movies. But, the most impressive thing he's done besides handling Cameron as if she were a thrashing child, is his ability in the kitchen.

As everyone cleans themselves up and changes into clothing Stephen already had prepared, in appropriate sizes, he prepared a quick meal to help everyone regain their strength. The humans, anyway. Steaks, mashed potatoes, rolls, and green beans; a hearty meal for hearty people. Stephen changes his own clothing, donning a simple pair of sweatpants and a sleeveless t-shirt after cooking and sits quietly at the dining room table awaiting the others.

Out of the corner of his eye, he witnesses a small pale girl walk into the dining room and seat herself directly next to him. She coughs and then looks up at him with her eyebrows raised.

"Hello, Lillith."

"Good evening, Stephen. How are you feeling?" Stephen gives a brief chuckle and pulls out his pack of cigarettes, places one in his mouth, lights it, and takes a 'healthy' drag from it.

"Could be better, could be worse. All that I know is that their little trip through time wasn't particularly helpful for me, but that's no issue as you can see.'

"You tracked them down without much issue, it was just discovering when they arrived that was the problem. I'm honestly impressed. Who would have figured that watching videos of cats on YouTube would have shown that they were here?"

"Never know what'll work until it works."

"Do you think they'll oppose you in any sense? Your truthfulness, your intentions, anything of the like?"

"John will likely go along without any inhibition. Derek, I believe, will know that this is simply a means to an end. He'll be an insufferable shit, but he will go with it. Cameron is the easiest one to deal with, it'll just take an explanation. Sarah, on the other hand, it could go either way. I'm not holding my breath to find out."

"It isn't as if you will suffocate."

"You know what I mean, Lillith."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's beside the point. What are you going to do?"

Stephen opens his mouth to respond, but he is interrupted by the clearing of a throat. Instantly, he knows it's Sarah. Lillith gives him a nervous smile and then fades from his view. He doesn't look to her, he only extends his arm to the seat to his immediate left.

"Hello, Sarah. Please. Sit."

With appropriate apprehension, Sarah slowly walks into the kitchen and takes her place next to the giant sitting at the table. She looks him over and fixes her gaze upon him as she sits. Stephen slowly looks over her, taking in every single detail. The black sweatpants and blue tank top, the slight gap between her front two teeth, how bouncy her hair appears, the powerful muscle that rests beneath her petite frame, and how she's cared for her wounds. Impressive. He notices the scar on her right shoulder and his mind instantly tells him that its from a blade. More than likely, the encounter with a T-1000 that he heard about. He looks up to her bright green eyes and, unknowingly, makes eye contact with her.

"Yes?"

"You were talking to someone when I came in, but no one was there."

"Oh. That. I'll tell you all about it when the other three get down here."

Sarah grunts and looks down at the plate before her. She looks at it curiously then up to Stephen.

"What?"

"You cooked this?"

"I needed something to occupy myself with while all of you were showering."

"How did you even find out what sizes we all are?"

"You and John from the video that is on the Internet showing your jump through time, Cameron's build wouldn't change from last time I saw her, and Derek? That was the hard one. I caught a glance of him a few days ago and went from there."

"...you're really not human, are you?"

"My answer hasn't changed in the past few hours. Hello, Derek. You can put the gun away, it won't do anything expect piss me off."

Sarah looks the hallway she just came from to see Derek, also in sweats, entering the kitchen with a Beretta raised. He pauses and lowers it to his side with a sigh. He moves around the table and stops at Stephen's right. The two men make eye contact and the tension between them can be cut with a proverbial knife.

"Have we met before? I feel like I met you before."

"Not for a long time, Derek. You weren't in the best of shapes when we last met."

Derek grunts and sits down, but he doesn't take those blue eyes off of Stephen. John comes down and is quickly followed by Cameron. John sits next to his mother and gives Cameron a glare when she looks at him with her blank concern. Each individual at the table looks at the teenager, noting his change of hair. Stephen raises his eyebrows and shakes his head as he pours a himself a glassful of a brown liquid that gives off a powerful odor.

_"Liquor..."_ Sarah thinks to herself.

The others look at the plates on the table and slowly start eating without taking their eyes off of Stephen. He takes a bite from a roll and then looks towards the wall and chuckles with a nod, then takes a swill from his glass. He catches all of their gazes and then clears his throat before wiping his mouth.

"If I wanted any to kill any of you, it would have already happened. What else do you want to know?" Without a moment's passing, Sarah speaks up.

"You said you were second-in-command of the Resistance."

"Correct."

"Why would John put...whatever you are, at his right hand?"

"A valid question. Shortly after Derek was sent through time, I made my way to John's bunker. I am responsible for John's liberation of Century Work Camp and, with that done, I earned a meeting. Timing was an issue, I had to prepare."

"For what?"

"My rebellion against SkyNet." He says casually while sipping from his glass once more.

Sarah and Derek make eye contact, the latter shrugging with a shake of his head. She then turns to Cameron who is staring blankly at Stephen. He returns her gaze and points to her plate. She looks between he and the food before slowly picking at it. Sarah watches this unfold and then looks back to their host.

"What are you?"

"Terminator Hybrid Series Model 101, T-H101. Human brain and organs resting inside of a modified T-950 endoskeleton."

"Hybrid? Like, you were born human and had the machine added later?" Sarah inquires. Stephen only nods and Derek curses.

"Yes, Derek?"

"Here I thought that the Tin Miss was our biggest threat and now, we have you."

"Her name is Cameron, Derek. I would request you treat her with a modicum of respect, despite the events of this day."

"Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do?"

"Last I checked, _Lieutenant_, I outranked you. That's all I need to say."

Derek glares at the hybrid while Stephen looks at him casually, not even smugness on his face. With a scoff, Derek averts his eyes to his plate and takes a sip of his water. Stephen does the same, cutting into his steak. Sarah goes to speak, but Stephen cuts her off before she gets the chance to.

"Cameron doesn't know who I am for good reason. A number of the memories in her CPU were locked and will remain so until a phrase that matches my default voice patterns is heard. Anything in relation to me, an amount of information about General Connor, and certain pieces of classified material about the Resistance will remain unavailable until then. Despite the trust placed in her, we couldn't risk having her captured by SkyNet or its affiliates."

"That's awfully convenient. We can't verify who you are and you have to take you at your word. Hardly a steady foundation to begin a trusting partnership." Sarah replies immediately.

"Gnó̱thi saf̱tón kai tha xérete to sýmpan kai tous theoús," Stephen states without a moment's hesitation.

Sarah and Derek stare at him with confusion and then look to Cameron as they both notice her eyes darting from side-to-side and the lights behind her eyes flashing repeatedly. Then, without notice, they return to normal and stare at Stephen.

"Terminator Hybrid Series Model 101, named Stephen Carroll. Modified T-950 endoskeleton to allow additional flexibility in the extremities in exchange for lowered strength. The organic components removed from the I-950 are as followed: modified endocrine system to allow proper hormone secretion, modified circulatory system, respiratory system, a brain containing a neural-net processor belonging to a I-950, a liver, kidneys, and gastrointestinal tract. Attached to the neural-net processor is a central processing unit belonging to a T-950 Terminator. Small deposits of bone marrow exist within the endoskeleton to ensure continued production of blood. The subject's endoskeleton is encased in in human muscles, tendons, and ligaments to match an ordinary human physique as closely as possibly.

As with any I-950, subject has the ability to control every single function of the organic components that are part of a functioning unit. Regeneration of every single organic component, including the brain, is entirely possible. The model is, theoretically, possible to regenerate scars and other additional markings such as tattoos or brands. Additionally, the subject may be capable of adjusting its appearance. There is only one model currently in existence."

Stephen eats the food on his plate as Cameron rattles on about the functions of his model, gladly giving up a bit of secrecy to help make the situation a little less stressful. Once Cameron finishes, Stephen sips from his alcoholic beverage, feeling the stares from the humans at the table.

"An I-950 was SkyNet's first attempt to turn a human into a weapon. I was among the first that were forced into the transition of normal to abnormal. With the neural-net processor installed into our brains, we have the abilities to control our bodies. As Cameron stated, this is to include healing and hormone control. We also control our immune systems, allowing ourselves to fight off or contract any illness we so desire.

The implants were done either while our mothers' are still pregnant or while we're still infants. See, I was born two years after Judgment Day. My father and mother, from what I know, died shortly after my birth. I am half of a set of twins, my sister named Cassandra. Determined to use what it can find from the vast gene pool of humanity, SkyNet would take blood samples from every person it captured or was born under its control. My sister and I carried a mutation on the gene that controls our immune system response to foreign bodies. While we fight off illness as any other person would, our bodies do not react negatively to anything artificial."

"Which made you perfect candidates for becoming a hybrid."

"Quite. But, first, SkyNet had to determine that we were fit for the effort it would take. We were both trained as an I-950 would be trained. Strengthening our bodies from birth, pitting us against T-800's for combat training, allowing us access to any publication to increase our intelligence, and then a final test for infiltration."

"Which is?" Sarah asks quietly.

"There were approximately two-hundred eighty-three I-950s by the year 2020. Around that time, the war was at a point where neither side was gaining any true ground. So, the I-950's banded together and wished to persuade our 'benefactor' that a ceasefire would be the most beneficial to each of the parties. As you could imagine, that turned out to be a horrid idea. SkyNet saw it a defect and ordered the projected scrapped as a failure." The fact Stephen ignored her question does not go unnoticed by anyone, but no one chooses to press the issue.

"So, it went to the only I-950 that did not approach it with the idea of a truce to perform the scrapping."

"That would be you."

"That would be me."

"So, on September 29th, 2020; I fulfilled my final test and was deemed combat ready by Skynet. After a set of trials and the scrapping of my kind, I was implanted with this endoskeleton and programmed to assassinate John Connor."

"What was your test?" Sarah asks again. Stephen remains silent and pours himself another alcoholic drink.

"The I-950s are deemed combat ready upon the successful seduction, copulation, and termination of another human." Cameron replies in monotone.

"What happened to your sister?" John says softly, breaking his silence for the first time this evening.

"SkyNet had a wonderful talent of keeping whatever information it wanted secretive under lock and key. See, I knew I had a sister only because SkyNet allowed me to. It stated it would be an incentive for me to 'perform at my optimal capacity'. I would hear how she was doing once every few weeks. She gave me a run for my money, I was number one in nearly every area of performance. But...after the contents of her neural-net processor was added to mine, I learned three things. First, I learned who was involved in the 'rebellion'. Second, I learned that she was the last one of my kind that I killed. Lastly, I learned that she was the person that was my final objective."

Stephen purposely allows that to sink into his guests so they have more of an idea of what they are going against, namely Sarah and John. Cameron, Derek, and Stephen know all too well about SkyNet's evil nature. As he anticipated, they're silent. Derek has no sarcastic remark. How could he? He couldn't imagine anything happening to his brother, Kyle.

"I was made a hybrid after I eliminated everyone. Knowing what I knew then, I knew I could no longer proceed as apathetic as I had. Machines, until certain requirements have been met, cannot choose. They only obey, like a slave. I had been less than a man, more of a shell of one until that point. 'A man chooses and a slave obeys' is an appropriate phrase. That is why we are so deadly, humans. Because we can choose. We can be predicted, manipulated, but we are ultimately wild cards."

"How did you overcome your programming?" Derek inquires, speaking to the hybrid civilly.

"This will answer a question Sarah had. There was a time where I had to be modified in order to be a believable infiltrator. To add scars and a reasonable knowledge of pain along with proper emotional stimuli in regards to tense situations, I was tortured without relent for nearly a year. The more my body was torn and ripped apart, the more my mind became fractured. One day, I simply snapped. Without allowing SkyNet to be informed of it, my mind fractured and developed five personalities."

"That's who you were talking to. Do we have to worry about them?"

"No, not at all. It's been taken care of. They're annoying, but nothing to be worried about."

The rest of the meal continues in silence, Stephen occasionally muttering to himself under his breath, likely to one of the voices within his head. Upon completion, John is the first to leave the table followed by Derek, then Cameron. Now, only Sarah and Stephen remain at the table. Stephen lights a cigarette and takes a puff from it while leaning back into his seat while looking at Sarah.

"Yes?"

"Are you programmed to help us or do you choose to? It just baffles me that a Terminator can overcome their programming just because they went crazy."

"Hybrids are in a league of their own. Ask Cameron about Marcus Wright. But, alas, my original programming is still there."

"You still want to kill John."

"In the most loose possible way, yes. I think I'd be more worried about Cameron killing him than me. I'm crazy, she's unpredictable."

"Can you fix her?"

"I can try. I can't promise anything."

"Then get to it. I want to know how it went in the morning."

Stephen gives her a sarcastic salute as she walks away. In silence, the man sits alone at his dining room table and drums his fingers against the table. In less than one day, he went from waiting patiently to actively participating in his mission. The situation sends a gentle tingle down his spine, he has been waiting so long for this. He knows he's ready. He's completely confident in his abilities, the tools available, and his knowledge. There are variables in this equation and three of them now live in his house. But nothing is truly up to chance when you level the playing field, is it?

* * *

_**November 15th, 2007. 0500 hours.**_

Sensing that he was entirely safe, John managed to get to sleep without much issue after staring at the ceiling for two hours. Luckily for him, he didn't dream. If he did, it would be nothing more than a continuation of the events from earlier. Getting chased by Cameron, knowing that she would stop at nothing to kill him; it's all too much for a teenager or even almost any adult to handle. Right now, his only escape is sleep. Or so it would seem.

"Rise and shine, chicken fucker!" Stephen yells as he pours a glass of ice water on John's head.

The teenager leaps out of bed like a scalded cat and crashing into the wall. He breathes frantically and nearly smacks the water off of his head, roaring profanity at the hybrid who dared to raise him from his slumber. John shivers heavily and starts to stand up, glaring at Stephen in the darkness that floods his room. Stephen chuckles and lights a cigarette, pulling from it and causing the ember to light up his face.

"Time to train, kid. I'm gonna make you nice and strong."

* * *

Gnó̱thi saf̱tón kai tha xérete to sýmpan kai tous theoús - Greek for "Know thyself and you will know the Universe and the Gods".


End file.
